


A Long Time Ago

by cheshirewritesagain1907



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Art, BDSM, Blood and Violence, Character Study, Child Abuse, Child Neglect, Dark Will, Death, Dom Hannibal Lecter, Dom/sub, Dr. Frederick Chilton Being an Asshole, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, F/M, Jack is a Little Shit, Love Confessions, M/M, Murder, Non-Consensual, Sexual Violence, Sub Will Graham, not from the beginning though
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-30
Updated: 2018-12-08
Packaged: 2019-04-15 01:57:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14149455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cheshirewritesagain1907/pseuds/cheshirewritesagain1907
Summary: Why is he who he is? What has she been through to paint such horrible scenes? What will he do when he discovers what connects them? What will he do when they all suddenly turn against him? What will she do when her love stays unrequited?Or basically Will is fascinated with Hannibal and the other way round which leads to heated scenes not only in the bedroom, Jack and Alana help freeing something that should have stayed inside and Hannibal meets an old friend. For dinner. No really for dinner, not what you were thinking.Short note on the side: This is used (as all of my ff stories) as a character study so there is no regular update schedule. It’s usually me trying to figure characters out, so I don’t abandon my stories but work on the real thing ;)





	1. Hero

**Author's Note:**

> Hi archive readers.  
> Just a warning ahead, please mind the tags. If you are triggered by rape and child abuse leave out the italics in the first chapter. It is not too graphic but still. The rest is okay to read, it will just be mentioned.  
> Otherwise, I just don’t know how regularly I’ll update but hang on there if you like the first chapter.  
> Also, my works are not beta’d so there might be mistakes.  
> Please do enjoy.

_He followed the group of three men since they left the bar. He kept himself in the shadows, they had no idea that he was there. And they would have no idea until it was far too late for them. He touched the blade in his pocket once more._

_The men were laughing and chatting, more or less drunk but their feet were still steady. So they would put up a bit of a fight. Good._

_That was exactly what he had been looking for when he went out tonight. What he had craved.  
When he had heard the men talking, he knew that they were up to no good. They had been mentioning a girl. After that they had lowered their voices significantly but he still intended to find out if he was right. He always was. He could smell bad people._

_The men reached a three star hotel in one of the less popular parts of Paris. He hid behind a wall, waited for them to enter._

_Before the entrance door could close completely, he slipped through as well and so avoiding using a key card. Once inside, no one seemed to bother with security too much. The receptionist, a bored looking young man with dark circles under his eyes, did not even look up from the magazine he was skipping through on his desk._

_His prey, the men, reached the elevator, taking no notice of his approach. They were busy with each other, seemingly excited about something._

_He entered the lift with them, moving to the back of the lift, leaning against the wall with his head down._

_The elevator came to a halt and the men exited. He let them walk on until they were almost out of sight. Only shortly before the lift doors could close he slipped his foot inside, keeping them open. He slid in the hallway noiselessly, his steps further muffled by the carpeted floor._

_The men knocked at a door at the end of the dimly lit hallway. He waited in safe distance.  
The door opened and a man, about the same age, opened the door, smiling and welcoming them with hugs._

_“Is she...?”_

_The new man shushed him and threw him a warning glance before motioning them through the door. Despite him looking up and down the hallway he could not see the young man of 24 years standing in the shadows, watching him with glowing amber eyes._

_As soon as the man disappeared into the room behind his friends, the door closed._

_He moved to kneel in front of the door, drawing out a plastic card, almost like a credit card, and carefully pressed it between door and frame._

_Loud voices could be heard from the inside so he didn’t bother to be very quiet. After some probing around the lock gave way. He pocketed the card again before he stood and carefully glanced through a slit in the door._

_The men were talking in French, the new man’s one was broken but understandable._

_Faint crying noises touched his sensitive ears, so faint they could have come from the other room. He knew better._

_The men all stood facing away from him towards the bed, seeming to look at something... someone on it that he couldn’t see._

_Quietly and fast he stepped into the room, hiding behind a wardrobe in the entrance area. The hotel room wasn’t particularly big and mainly occupied by a double bed. The only light came from the lamp on the bedside table, the rest of the roomwas in darkness._

_Suddenly one of the men stepped closer and knelt on the bed, extending his hand._

_A scream. High pitched._

_His blood froze in his veins as memories bubbled onto the surface._

_No, he couldn’t let them take over now. There would be time for them later. Now he needed to concentrate upon the matter at hand once more. Now he needed to be strong and do what he had failed to do all these years ago. This was his chance to make it up to her._

_The new man with the bad French switched languages and spoke now angrily to the person on the bed in Danish._

_His Danish was not perfect but he understood.  
“Shut up and be a good girl now. Daddy will buy you some sweets afterwards.”_

_The sobbing started again, mixed with desperate whimpers as the man on the bed crawled and kneeled in front of the person lying on the bed. He unbuckled his belt, opened his trousers._

_The men around the bed shifted and he could catch a quick glance at the person on the bed. Well, hardly a person. A child. Just so. Maybe six, no more than seven years old. She was already naked and bruised, her hair messy, her eyes swollen and red from crying. Blood was visible between her legs and on the white sheets. They weren’t the first ones to pay her a visit._

_He drew his blade from his pocket, gripping it so tightly his knuckles went white. He gritted his teeth._

_The man on the bed had his trousers open and was stroking himself, getting ready for the girl.  
He couldn’t wait any longer. Even if he would risk his life now while going at them without a clear plan, he could not just watch and let it happen. The girl was probably in terrible pain, if not already drugged by her father._

_The man moved forward and so did he. He leashed out, the first cut going through the throat of the man closest to him. He had no change. The blood shot out of his open throat as a look of suprise crossed his face. His hands went up to clutch at the wound, desperately trying to hold his life in his body. He went to the floor, struggling and gurgling for breath._

_The other men were surprised but had a second to come to. His second victim tried to fight back but was too slow. His throat was cut in the next few seconds, spraying blood all over his face._

_He moved on to the father, stabbing him in the stomach, quick and efficient but not deadly. Not yet. He went to his knees, wincing in pain._

_The man on the bed hard tried to get away, was almost as the door, holding up his still open trousers as not to fall over them._

_He was faster. He caught the man by the collar of his shirt, throwing him back into the room so he landed on his back._

_“Please, don’t hurt me.”, he whimpered.  
He just stood over him, a dark smile on his face, his blade shining in his hand. He knelt and plunged the knife into the man’s crotch, hurting an artery, blood gushing out of the wound._

_The man screamed pushed down on his throat, disabling him from making any noise but not killing him._

_He got up, looking in disgust at the bleeding man on the floor before he stepped over him, kneeling on the far side of the bed where the girl had sat up and curled into a ball._

_He put his knife aside, holding up his hands.  
“I’m not gonna hurt you.”, he said in Danish, his accent stronger than it should have been from the many years of disuse._

_The girl looked at him with wide eyes but didn’t reply or shy away._

_He took the comforter from the side of the bed, blood free, and carefully moved towards the girl.  
He was aware of the fact that he must look terrifying with all the blood over himself but he couldn’t change this now._

_She kept watching him but didn’t move. He put the blanket around her tightly, waiting until she gripped the ends to hold it close to her body._

_“I promise I’ll get you out of here as soon as I asked your father a few questions.”_

_She didn’t indicate that she had heard him, just kept staring at him with her clear blue eyes that reminded him of snow in the shadows of the sinking sun._

_He turned to face her father, getting off the bed and kneeling beside him._

_The father looked at him, pain in his voice as he spoke._

_“Please, take her but let me live. You can have her.”, he said in his broken French._

_He smiled grimly._

_“Oh, I intend to take her with me alright but you will not live to see that.”_

_“Please, what do you want? Money? I got money.”  
“Why sell your daughter then?”_

_“Not...” He breathed through a wave of pain. “I didn’t sell her. They are... were my friends.”_

_“Even worse.”_

_He took his knife fron the bed, forcing it against the man’s throat. The man winced in pain, tears streaming down his cheeks as he pleaded for his life._

_He didn’t listen._

_“The names of your other friends. All of them.”_

_The father didn’t even hesitate a secind before he spilled all remaining three names. Three._

_He saw red as he plunged the knife into the man’s throat, ending his life._

_Breathing heavily he turned back towards the girl on the bed who seemed just as indifferent as before just staring at him._

_He stood and went to the bathroom, looking at himself in the mirror. He’d been right. Blood was spluttered all over his face and shirt. His dark trousers seemed more or less clean. Nonetheless he would dispose everything later on._

_He turned on the tap and washed his hands and face. He knew he needed a plan now. He was brilliant at cleaning up, never was any evidence found but now it was different. He hadn’t had enough time to prepare everything and the blood had soaked into the thick carpet of the room.  
He would need to make do with what he had and erase any evidence of himself._

_Besides that, there was no way he could carry four bodies out of the room without being seen.  
He watched the last of te blood mixed with water run down the drain, his face clean again and so were his hands. He dryed himself on a clean part of his shirt, not wanting to use a towel._

_Eventually he went back into the main room, the girl still sitting on the bed but she was looking at her dead father now._

_He climbed onto the bed again, catching her attention and her eyes wandered back to him.  
“I’m sorry you had to see this.”, he said quietly. And he truly was. He couldn’t change what she had been through, there was no need for him to apologise because of that but he could apologise for what he had done. He did not regret killing them, just that she was in the room when he did it._

_“I’m not.”, she whispered, voice hoarse from cyring, clutching the blanket tightly to her small body._

_“We need to think what we’re going to do now. I would like to get you into a hospital as soon as possible. Do you trust me?”_

_She scanned his face before she gave a brief nod.  
“The hospital is going to ask questions and call the police because of what happened to you. You can’t mention what I did. You need to tell them...”_

_“I ran away.”, she interrupted quietly, her gaze focusing on nothing in particular. “They hurt me and I escaped and ran. You found me on the streets.”_

_He was amazed, truly. She was so young and yet said it with such a determination._

_“Very good, girl. Let’s get you some clothes.”_

_She followed him off the bed, stepping around the bloody bodies towards the wardrobe._

_He pulled out some of her clothes and handed them over._

_“You feel the need to wash, I know, but don’t. We need the evidence. To make the bad men go away.”_

_She nodded, dropping the sheet and trying to step into her pants._

_He wanted to turn away just as she flinched in pain and hunched over, going to her knees._

_The shock had worn off and now she would feel horrible._

_Immediately he was at her side, holding her shoulder gently._

_“What’s wrong?”_

_“My... everything hurts. My tummy. And my chest.”_

_“I understand what you have been through and that you probably want to wait until we’re in the hospital but will you allow me to check on you, just to make sure I’m not endangering you while getting you there? I’m sutyding to be a doctor at the moment.”_

_She looked at him with nothing but sheer trust in her eyes and nodded again._

_He straightened her up carefully and touched the bruises on her ribs with his fingertips. She flinched back, gasping in pain._

_“Can you take a deep breath for me?”_

_She did. It was shaky and her face twisted in pain, tears in her eyes but she could do it._

_“Okay, it’s not broken but sprained. For everything else we need the hospital to check you over. Come on.”_

_He carefully helped her into her clothes. She was so fragile and thin he wondered that she had no broken bones._

_Once she was dressed he gave her a little smile, holding out his hand._

_“My name is Hannibal.”_

_She smiled back lightly, taking his hand in her small one._

_“Annalise.”_

_“So, do you think I can borrow some clothes from your father?”_

*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

“That’s a new piece in your collection, Hannibal.”

“Indeed it is, Tom.”

They were standing in front of a painting in Hannibal’s home after a successful dinner party, each a glass of no doubt unbelievingly expensive white wine in their hand.

Tom’s wife Barbara cam up beside her husband, studying the painting as well.

“It’s dark. Creepy.”

The painting was mostly black, only fine lines of yellowish white shining through. And in the middle a pair of glowing, amber eyes, perfect in their detail.

Alana appeared beside Hannibal as she did nowadays more and more often. He’d been her advisor for some time but only lately she’d become this clingy. He did invite her over for dinner, true, but only ever in the company of others, figuring she might be useful later on.

“I don’t like it.”, Alana stated. “It’s like a picture straight out of a horror movie.”

Hannibal smiled to himself.

“It’s called ‘Hero’.”

Alana cocked her eyebrow at him.

“Then there’s possibly something wrong with the painter.”

“Why would you think that? Maybe the circumstances were so terrible that the monster itself became the hero.”

“I don’t like it.”, Alana insited.

He had given up trying to educate her in arts long ago.

“Actually it’s part of a series.”

“Yes?”, Tom asked.

Hannibal nodded.

“I bought all three of them but the other two didn’t arrive yet.”

“Where did you find the painter?”

“A vernisage in New York. Although the painter wasn’t present, only her representative.”

“Must be very famous then.”

Hannibal smiled and took a sip of his wine.  
“She is in Skandinavia and England, but she hates public displays of her own person.”

Alana crossed her arms in fromt of her body.

“Arrogant probably.”

Hannibal wanted to hurt her, not neccessarily physically, but see her destroyed and devastated in that moment.

“You need to invite us over again once the other pictures arrive.”

“Certainly.”

They rejoined the rest of their dinner party. Only Hannibal lingered behind for a moment, eyes scanning the picture.


	2. Joy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your kudos everyone.

_The detective wrote something on his notepad before closing it, looking at Hannibal with a bored gaze._

_“I’ll look into finding the people should I get any evidence.” He didn’t sound very convincing at all though. Well, he would only need to find three of them anyways because everyone else was dead but no one apart from him and the girl knew that yet. He had the names of the three remaining people as well. Another fact they didn’t know yet. And he didn’t intent to tell the police. He would make sure these creatures got what they deserved._

_A very rude answer burning on his tongue he swallowed and composed himself._

_“Thank you, sir.”, he replied casually, not displaying any emotions at all._

_“In the meantime the girl will go to an orphanage. Thanks for your help again.”_

_Hannibal opened his mouth but closed it again as the doctor approached them. He and the detective stood._

_“We’re finished with the tests now.”_

_“May I see her?”, Hannibal asked, letting them hear the concern in his voice._

_The doctor nodded but the detective held him back by his shoulder._

_“I need to speak with her alone first.”_

_“She’s firghtened. She might...”_

_“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.”_

_Hannibal very much doubted that but didn’t argue with him._

_The detective left with the doctor and entered the room in which the girl was lying, probably still in tears._

_Not long after they had entered the room, Hannibal could hear silent crying and shouting coming from inside. He moved a few steps closer to the door and listened._

_“I want Hannibal.”, the girl, Annalise, cried in Danish._

_His name was probably the only thing they understood._

_The detective and the doctor tried to soothe her but she wouldn’t stop fussing until the door opened. The detective motioned Hannibal through with an annoyed expression on his face._

_Hannibal smiled slightly at the little girl, moving beside her to take her hand in his, stroking her hair with his free hand._

_She was washed now and put into a clean hospital gown. She smelled of anti bacterial solution all over and he wanted to hug her but refrained from it because of her ribs._

_“Hannibal.”, she whimpered, here eyes wet and puffy but she seemed to be happy to see him. Almost relieved that he was still there. But he would never just left. He had promised her he would be there when she was finished and he was._

_The detective huffed in annoyance._

_“Can you translate or do I need to get someone in to do it?”_

_“I’ll do it’, he said immediately._

_Then he turned towards the girl again._

_“Don’t cry, darling, it’s gonna be alright. Just answer a few questions for this man.” He spoke Danish to her as she did with him._

_Her eyes widened with fear as she gripped his hand tighter._

_“Don’t leave.”_

_“I’m not going to.”_

_Eventually she calmed down and looked at the detective._

_She repeated the story that she had ran away after the bad men hurt her and ran into Hannibal. He translated for her, seeing no need to change anything about her story._

_No, she didn’t know Hannibal before. Yes, he helped her going to the hospital. Yes, her father was the one who let his friends do with her what they wanted. No, she didn’t know where her mother was since she left them when she was a baby. Yes, her father was the only relative she had left. Yes, he used to beat her when she hadn’t obeyed. Yes, he did take her here on holiday but didn’t tell her what they were going to do._

_By the end of the story Hannibal wanted to kill this creature again._

_The detective nodded, writing down something before he looked up._

_“I’m going to look into finding the men who did this to you.”_

_Hannibal translated but thought to himself that this won’t be neccessary because he definitely would. And probably as well this non caring detective. How could he be bored with a raped child in front of him?_

_“Until we find your mother and contact her, you will need to go to an orphanage. They will take care of you there.”_

_Hannibal quickly translated before he turned towards the detective._

_“Don’t send her there. Please.”_

_Memories came up again but he pushed them away. No time for that now._

_“I need her to go someplace safe.”_

_“She can stay with me.”_

_The detective laughed._

_“You? You don’t even know her.”_

_“But she will not understand a single word there. And after the shock she’s just gone through, she might not survive that.”_

_He looked at Annalise in concern, letting them see it. He hated to pretend and kneel in front of this bastard but he had no choice. If he wanted the girl to be safe, he needed to._

_Now it was the doctor’s turn to speak up for the first time._

_“It wouldn’t be an unwise decision. Apart from that, the orphanages are filled already to the brim so they wouldn’t be happy about another child anyway.”_

_The detective seemed to think but only for a moment._

_“Whatever. But you need to accompany her to her checkups at the hospital.”_

_“Certainly sir.”_

_“I got your details. I’m gonna let you know once we found her mother.”_

_“Alright.”_

_Hannibal secretly hoped that would be never. He wasn’t sure what he would do then since it would be a bit difficult to get custody of a child and then bring her back to America but he knew he could come up with a plan eventually._

_The detectice closed his jacket._

_“Enjoy the rest of your holiday, Mr Lecter.”_

_He left._

_“You can come back tomorrow afternoon and take her out. There’s just a few forms you need to sign.”_

_Hannibal explained to Annalise what the doctor had just said. She didn’t want him to go but agreed once he promised her that he would be back the next day with new clothes and sweets._

_——————————_

_Hannibal signed the last form and went to see Annalise who was sitting in her bed, staring at the door._

_He handed her the bag he brought with him, new clothes as promised._

_“And we can get some more later but I wanted you to choose them.”_

_She gave him a weak smile._

_“Thank you.”_

_He helped her change again and put on her shoes._

_She carefully stood, testing her balance and gripping his hand when she stumbled._

_They left the hospital and drove to his hotel close to the Eiffel Tower. He could never afford to stay here, not while he studied, not while on scholarschip but he had some filthy rich... friends who would gladly pay everything for the young handsome man if he only paid enough attention to them afterwards. His financier wasn’t with him this time but he would expect some shared company once he was back home again. Which was alright. He only needed to do it as long as he didn’t earn enough money. But soon he would.  
Hannibal helped her into the suite and closed the door. Her eyes grew wide as she looked around the spacious room._

_“It’s bigger than our house.”_

_Hannibal laughed._

_“And all yours now as well.”_

_Annalise started off towards the sofa but her feet didn’t quite carry her because of the previously injected drugs from the hospital._

_Hannibal took a step forward, holding her up._

_“Careful.”, he reminded her softly, smiling down at her._

_“I am truly sorry.”_

_She looked at her feet._

_Hannibal frowned and croched beside her, lifting her chin gently with his fingers and making her look at him._

_“Don’t ever apologise to me. Not because of that.”_

_She stared into his eyes. Then she suddenly snapped. She threw her arms around his neck, clutching to him desperately, sobbing._

_Hannibal was momentarily taken aback but regained his composure within seconds, holding her tight._

_“I know this hurts, love. I know what you’re goong through believe me.”_

_She shook violently in his arms. Slowly a wet patch started to form on the shoulder of his shirt, he could feel it._

_“When I was probably only a bit older than you, my parents died and left me and my sister behind. Some bad men came and took her from me.”_

_“Did you find her again?”_

_A muffled voice._

_A memory of a skeleton in the snow._

_A tiny skeleton, about her size._

_Hannibal decided to tell the truth._

_“They killed her. They ate her. And fed her to me.”_

_The hatred in his voice let her pull back and look into his eyes._

_“Then I hope you hurt them like you hurt the men when you saved me.”_

_Men, not father. And saved me not killed my father._

_“Yes I did. And I did the same to them as they did to Mischa. I will find the others that hurt you and hurt them as well.”_

_———————————_

_The first night was hard. He could tell she missed her home as he brought her to bed._

_She had nightmares and woke up screaming more than once until Hannibal decided to take her into his bed._

_He hugged her tight and stroken her blonde hair until she fell asleep._

_The rest of the night she would only twitch a bit before falling quiet again._

_From that moment on they kept this routine._

_———————————_

_The detective called to let Hannibal know that they needed to meet._

_As he told Annalise she suddenly went pale._

_“It’s only been a day. They can’t have found her already.”_

_“You do not wish to go back to your mother?”_

_“I don’t know my mother and I don’t want to get to know her. What if she beats me too?”_

_Hannibal sighed._

_“I’m afraid I cannot keep you from her.”_

_“I could come with you.”_

_“To America?”_

_“Is that where you live?”_

_Hannibal nodded._

_“Then that’s where I wanna go to.”_

_“You barely now me.”_

_He has never in his whole life experienced such pure trust. Not in him. He never even had it himself._

_Hannibal smiled at her._

_“If I could, I would do it.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Yes.”_

_She kissed his cheek, hugging him close. His eyes did all but fill with tears as he was reminded so much of his little sister._

_—————————_

_“Tell her we found her father. Dead.”_

_Hannibal sat up a bit straighter in the detective’s office, the girl just looking at him._

_“Where...?”_

_“A hotel room. He had three others with him. Dead as well.”_

_Hannibal looked shocked and surprised._

_“Are these the three that...?”, he asked although he already knew the answer._

_The detective shook his head._

_“No. The DNA doesn’t match.”_

_Hannibal looked at Annalise and back at the detective._

_“How am I supposed to tell her that? Her father was an asshole alright but he was he father.”_

_The detectove shrugged his shoulders._

_“I don’t care. Just get out of my office, I have enough trouble finding that mother of hers.”, he noted and then murmured ”Couldn’t they have taken better care she didn’t escape?”_

_Hannibal heard and it got his blood boiling and teeth clenching but he couldn’t do anything about him now. But he would. Oh yes. Later on._

_“Come on, love.”, he said in Danish. “I need to try to explain to you that your father was found dead.”_

_She only smiled a little as he led her out._

_————————_

_Hannibal discovered that Annalise was a very smart girl for her age. She would listen to every word he said, trying to copy words, using them in her own sentences._

_He decided to teach her French, which she did so well that after two weeks she was able to speak full sentences and understand a fair share of what others said._

_She was interested in painting and drawing so he tooke her to the art museums in Paris, explaining the things that moved him and the ones that he ridiculed. Despite this he tried to let her make her own opinions about the different paintings. Most of the time they were on the same page though. She explained what he though in a more simpler way._

_Also he started to teach her how to draw._

_Sometimes she would sit on his lap or beside him and just watch him draw for hours._

_They did a lot of walling too, he showing her the secret narrow alleys with the best cafés. He had been living in Paris for some time when he was younger, so he was familiar with the culture as well as the city._

_The girl seemed happy, joyful and started to laugh much more than she ever did before._

*_*_*_*_*_*_*

The second picture was called ‘Joy’ and arrived only days after the party. It’s colours were brighter, displaying a beautiful parisian scene in summer. A child, features not clear visible, in the narrow streets. It was clear that she was happy.

Hannibal had it hung on the wall beside the first one.

He went to work the day after, sitting in his office and finishing off some paperwork. A sudden, unexpected knock at the door made him look up.  
His last appointment had left more than an hour ago, it couldn’t be them.

He stood and walked to the door, ready to tell whoever was out there to make an appointment before they could see him. He opened the door.

“Hello Hannibal.”, the barely accented voice said.

It belonged to a woman in her mid-twenties, her eyes as blue as snow in the shadow of the setting sun. Her hair was long and softly curled and coloured in a way that reflected a rainbow, only in much lighter pastell tones.

Her clothes were quite unusual as well, including black as the only colour, leather trousers and a torn tee shirt.

“You changed quite a bit, Annalise.”

“I decided against this name a long time ago.”

“I know. But I prefer your real name.”

They held each other’s gaze.

“I only do sessions by appointment.” His voice wasn’t as indifferent as it would normally have been.

“I know. But you’ll make an exception for me.”

Annalise picked up a square wrapped in brown paper and air wrapping beside her.

“I got your painting.”

“Do you normally deliver paintings yourself?”, he asked as he stepped aside to let her into his office.

“Not really but I thought I’ll make an exception for you, since you bought the whole series for a decent amount of money.”

She flashed him a smile as she entered the office and put the painting down carefully beside his desk.

Hannibal closed the door.

“You changed.”

“So did you I see. Nice office.”

She started walking around, inspecting things standing and lying around, all in careful order.

Hannibal watched her closely. This was dangerous. They haven’t met in all these years. She was the only person who could expose him as a killer.  
If needed be, he would need to make sure she wouldn’t speak. She was probably here to get money, now that she knew he was wealthy. Or blackmail him into something.

Hannibal smiled a little. That wicked little girl had become a wicked woman, what else could he expect. He was almost proud of her.

But nonetheless she would die tonight.

Annalise had moved over to the desk he kept his drawings on. Usually they were locked away in a folder so his clients wouldn’t see them but he hadn’t been expecting someone anymore.

She carefully touched the drawings, looking through them with a slight smile while Hannibal leaned against his desk, his arms crossed in fromt of his body, observing her.

“You were the reason I started painting.”, she admitted, not looking up at him. “You taught me how to draw.”

Hannibal was silent, studying her profile.

“I was only six but I remember everything as if it happened yesterday.”

She took an audible breath.

“After my mother took me to Lithuania I just wanted to get away to find you. She didn’t let me. Instead she put me into a boarding school, safely locked away for the better part of the year. In my holidays she’d put me in summer school. She never even pretended that she cared. As soon as I was old enough I left her and went back to Denmark. I studied arts. I went to London and Edinburgh multiple times until I settled down in London, being a bit more comfortable with the language there.”

She smiled to herself a little.

“And all these years I wondered if I would meet you in one of the art museums or vernisages, but you never showed up. I remembered you talking about America and went to New York. An art dealer offered to display my works immediately. And it seems this time I was in luck.”

“You tried to find me.”, he stated.

Part of him believed her, wanted to believe her, but there was still the possibility that she would only want to get close to him and then inform the police.

On the other hand, she had no reason to. 

Everything he did for her was his best intention. He had left her with her mother but she couldn’t have stayed with him anyway.

“You didn’t.”, she retorted, looking up now to meet his gaze.

Her eyes were glistening wetly now.

That was another possible reason. But what he did for her clearly outwaged all the other reasons.

“You are hurt.”

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what.”

“Psychoanalyze me. I had my fair share of them already.”

“Your mother.”

“She thought it would be a good idea after the trauma I’ve been through. I never talked a single word about you, just my cruel father. No psychiatrist kept me for very long because I ‘didn’t participate’ in the sessions.”

“It would have been easier if I would have been there.”

It wasn’t a question.

Annalise just nodded, looking away from him. A single tear rolled down her cheek and she turned around quickly, wiping it away.

“I’m sorry, that was a mistake. I shouldn’t have come.”

She quickly moved towards the door, gripping the handle but Hannibal was faster. Before she could push it down, his hand was on hers and he turned her around.

“Do you regret seeing me now?”

“No.”, she said quietly.

“I’m glad you were looking for me.”

“Really?”

His mask slipped away for a moment and he let her see the man she knew, the smile that had helped her in her darkest nights. Suddenly she was again the frightened child on the bed.

Hannibal didn’t think twice as he put his arms around her, hugging her tight.

“Hannibal.”, she murmured as she put her arms around him as well. “Aš pasiilgau tavęs.” _I missed you._

He hadn’t spoken his native language in ages, refused to, but hearing her speak it, having something in common with her, a private secret only they would understand in this part of the world, the idea appealed to him.

“Aš tavęs taip pat pasiilgau.” _I missed you too._ , he replied, the language rolling off his tongue as if he had never stopped speaking it.


	3. Revenge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for the love (: Next chapter, here we go.

_After a bit more than four weeks - it was nearly time for Hannibal to think about what to do since he would need to get back to America soon to resume his studies - another call from the detective came. Apparently Annalise’s birth mother had been found and contacted. She planned on picking her up tomorrow and take her with her to Lithuania where she was currently living._

_Annalise cried when he told her. She didn’t want to leave him. She was scared of her mother. Scared of another language she wouldn’t understand._

_He managed to get her spirits up again with a lot of effors but that was only until she met her mother at the airport._

_Their plane was due to depart in an hour, boarding nearly started._

_Hannibal held Annalise’s hand as her mother talked to her in a cold, impersonal way. The girl kept moving closer towards him until she couldn’t go any farther._

_He hugged her, kissing the top of her head, promising her that they would see each other again if she was just a bit patient._

_She promise him to be brave and do what she must until they would meet again._

_Hannibal let her go with her mother but he felt like he was loosing his sister all over again._

_But he had something to distract him from these thoughts. He had four people on his to-do-list._

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

The third painting, ‘Revenge’, was the darkest of them all. Even darker than the first one. There were no clearly visible persons in it, just dark colours mixed with a few streaks of dark red. 

It hung now beside the other two.

Alice watched her work completely satisfied and thrilled that they now hung in Hannibal’s house.

When her representative had told her that she had a buyer for the whole series, she had gone pale, actually not wanting to sell them to just anybody. But then she had seen the name on the cheque.

Hannibal had saved her life so many years ago and she never had the chance to repay him in any way. She felt such a devotion towards the man that it had almost physically hurt all those years she hadn’t been with him.

The paintings had been a shot in the dark, especially since she changed her name, but she had hoped. It looked like fate had, for once, decided for her instead of against.

Obviously she knew that he would have changed but that didn’t matter. In his eyes, behind this darkness, there was still the young man that had saved her life.

Alice knew she had changed as well. She didn’t believe in fairy tails, meaning true love, the thing all girls dreamt about, wasn’t on for her. She would rather read books than have a boyfriend, avoiding men later in her life as well for obvious reasons.

Slowly Alice moved through the house, finding herself especially interested in the many books he possessed. She decided to definitely take a closer look at all of them at a later time.

She went on until she reached the kitchen, stopping the doorway, watching Hannibal with a slight smile on her lips.

He didn’t look up from his chopping task but his lips twitched merely noticeable.

“You used to like to watch me draw.”, he brought up the memory.

Alice’s breath hitched at the thought that he remembered her so clearly.

She moved closer, standing beside him as she watched his skilled fingers work.

“I was fascinated by you.”, she admitted. “Everything you did, I wanted to do.”

Hannibal stopped his chopping and looked at her. Really looked at her.

“I had no choice but to let you go with your mother.”

“I know. I’m not mad.”

He nodded and went back to his task.

“I always wondered if you were alright but I wouldn’t let myself look for you. Because if I would have found you, once more hurt, I would have...”

He stopped himself there probably not sure if she remembered. 

It had been a traumatic experience alright. But she would never forget what happened. She couldn’t. And she didn’t want to.

“You would have killed her. For me.”, she whispered almost too quiet to hear.

Hannibal gave a brief movement of his head.

He was dangerous and she knew it. That it attracted her like a fly to the light was known to her but that warm feeling in her belly was new.

Hannibal’s hand moved the knife through the vegetables. It slid through them as if they were butter. She wondered what the knife would feel like on her skin if he would use it on her. If it would look just as light and fluent as it had when he had sliced the men in Paris open. For her.

“You are cooking?”

“I am.”

“Since when?”

“I did cook for you in Paris.”, he said and arched an eyebrow at her.

“Yeah. But I wouldn’t have called that cooking.”

He seemed offended until he heard her chuckle.

“I’m just teasing, Hannibal.”

She touched his arm lightly, holding on to it for a few seconds.

His eyes lingered on the spot where she touched him.

“I got better since. Much better.”

“It smells amazing.”

Hannibal flashed her a smile putting oil into a pan on the stove.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked so I’ll stick to a vegetarian dish. I hope that is alright?”

“That’s perfect, thanks.”

Hannibal had no qualms whatsoever to feed his meet to anybody. Anybody but her. He couldn’t make himself do it without her knowledge and consent.

She still reminded him so much of his little sister. They wouldn’t be the same age now, of course, with Mischa being only a few years younger than himself, but there was still an aura of innocence about Annalise for him.

Trying to name the feeling of the last few hours he could only come up with possessiveness.

The feeling was strong and mixed with jealousy because he knew she wasn’t his in any way although she should be. But he didn’t know if there was someone else in her life. He intended to find out though.


	4. Relations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry sweetpeas, it took me a bit longer this time.  
> Chapter three has been slightly edited, FYI.  
> Here we go, and I got more than one update for you today to make it up to you guys.  
> Again, I'm beta'ing myself and that very quickly so I apologise for mistakes.  
> Thanks for the love <3 You are great.

After dinner they sat down in Hannibal’s living room, enjoying a glass of wine.

“So tell me about your life.”

“I did already.”

“What about now? What are you doing?”

Annalise shrugged, twisting the stem of her glass between her fingers.

“Not much to tell. I do paint a lot to earn my living. No everyone pays as generously as you did and I’m not famous enough to demand a lot of money.”

Hannibal watched her profile in the dimmed living room light.

“What about a boyfriend? Or girlfriend?”, he carefully enquired.

Annalise blushed a bit at the mention of this and took her time before she answered.

“Not really.”

Hannibal would have never admitted it but the answer pleased him immensely. Still, this was something that couldn’t happen because he never was in a relationship. And for everything else she would be too fragile still. But he liked to think of her as his. Actually, always had, even in the years they had spent apart.

“What about you?”

“I prefer not to be in relationships. My preferences are quite... specific.”

He left the rest to her vivid imagination, watching her reaction closely now.

Annalise took a sip of her wine before she faced him again.

“Specific as in... ?”

Hannibal took a sip himself before he answered.

“Different from the things other people like.”

Annalise raised an eyebrow at him.

“Preferences that most people frown upon.”

“As long as you are not raping little children I assure you I will not look down at you.”, she answered coolly, looking into her glass as she was speaking.

The psychiatrist watched her face closely. He had expected that it would come up eventually and he also had expected her to react as composed as she did but he could see through her. He knew that she was still hurting very much, that she was not over what happened. He would let the decision to talk about it up to her though.

“Bondage. Dominance. Hurting someone and enjoying their pain while they, on the other hand, enjoy the pain given to them.”

Annalise pulled one of her legs up and underneath her so she could turn and face him.

“Since when do you like this stuff?”

“Always actually. In my youth, around the age we met, I haven’t been doing it yet, but I more or less just tumbled into it when I became richer and had the chance to explore different things. I could afford to do other things without needing to focus on my studies anymore.”

“And you hurt these people. With their consent.”

“Yes.”

The young painter thought for a moment.

“Would you like to hurt me?”

Hannibal didn’t say anything for some time. He took another drink of his wine.

Would he? He wasn’t entirely sure himself and that was quite unusual. Of course, he liked to think of her as his but didn’t feel the urge or need to see her bleeding, her thighs stained with welts left by his riding crop. The images did come up but changed every time to the child lying on the bed, bloodied and crying.

For the first time in his entire life he wasn’t sure if he could hurt her, not even if she asked him to.

Which caused a problem because he was not interested and, most likely, not capable of having a normal relationship. Therefore she could never wholly be his.

It was a problem that would prove very hard to solve and he didn’t like that.

“I don’t know if I could.”, he decided for the honest answer.

“Because of what happened to me.”

He said nothing.

“I don’t know if I would want you to. By... by them enjoying the pain, you mean they...?”

“Feel pleasure from it. There is a very thin line between pain and pleasure.”

Annalise shrugged, taking another sip of her wine and looking towards the carpet.

“I never felt pleasure. I wouldn’t know. There was only ever pain. And if that is pleasure, then I don’t want to feel it.”  
Hannibal twisted his body towards her as well, looking at her until she lifted her gaze to meet his.

“Never?”

“After what happened I generally avoided men. And women... I don’t know. I just didn’t... feel anything I suppose. I never was keen on trying.”

Hannibal knew that this chat was half professional curiosity and half completely selfish. There was questions he wanted answers to that he shouldn’t be asking.

“Forgive the forward question but... not even with yourself?”

Annalise huffed a laugh.

“Coming from someone else I would have found the question offending. Now I’m just wondering about your interest in me, Dr Lecter.”

She smiled.

“But no is the answer to your question. Maybe there is something wrong with me, I wouldn’t wonder. That was certainly what my mother used to think.”

“I can assure you I’m certain there is nothing wrong with you. After everything you’ve been through, your mind associates any sexual act with pain and disgust. You were never able to forget because you didn’t get the help you needed when you needed it. You were not able to process it properly.”

“Thanks for the free lesson, Dr Lecter. I think I should go now.”

Hannibal wondered if she was offended now. Her tone was indifferent but she was good at faking emotions, good at wearing a person suit not unlike himself.

“You can stay in the guest room. It’s late already.”

Annalise hesitate for a moment before she nodded.

“Alright, thanks.”

“Second floor, first door to your right. If you need anything, let me know.”

She smiled and nodded again before giving him a brief hug, too brief for him to reciprocate, and left the room.

\--------------------------

Hannibal woke suddenly. He was a light sleeper and usually the faintest of sounds would wake him.

This time it had been a scream. He wasn’t entirely sure if he had only dreamt it or if it was real.

Then the scream came again. Annalise.

Hannibal carefully got out of bed and made his way down the hallway, not rushing but quietly and listening.  
The chance that there was someone in the room, hurting her, wasn’t very high since he had modern security equipment installed to secure his house. The alarm would have gone off if someone would have tried to get in.

Still, he always tended to be a bit more careful. Better safe than sorry.

Hannibal opened the door slowly and took in the room. Everything was dark and quiet apart from Annalise, who was thrashing on the bed, whining and screaming.

Hannibal went closer quickly, kneeling down beside the bed.

He touched her forehead with his hand. She was covered in cold sweat.

“Annalise, wake up.”

She moaned but didn’t wake up.

“Annalise, it’s me, Hannibal. Wake up.”, he said in Danish and decided to stick to the language.

She opened her eyes with a gasp, jumping away from him.

“Annalise. It’s me.”, he repeated.

The young woman was breathing heavily, fear in her eyes.

Hannibal could tell the moment the dream stopped taking over her brain and she realised where she was.

“Hannibal?”, she asked as if she couldn’t believe he was here.

“Yes.”, he said calmly.

Annalise wiped her hand across her face.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?”

“Do you have these nightmares often?”, he asked, ignoring her question.

She nodded.

“Are they always this bad?”

Annalise nodded again.

“One of the reasons my mother sent me to see a shrink.”, she said quietly.

Hannibal flinched lightly at the word ‘shrink’.

He stood, holding out his hand towards her.

“Come. You can’t stay in these sheets and I’m not going to change them now.”

She took his hand, letting him pull her up on her feet as well.

“Go and take a quick shower, I’ll get you some new clothes.”

“Thanks.”, she muttered, still embarrassed that he had found her like this.

By the time he returned with new clothes, she stood in the bathroom, the door half open, a towel wrapped around her thin body, looking into the mirror. Almost too thin from what he could see above and below the towel.

Hannibal knocked at the door softly as not to startle her after her nightmare.

Annalise turned towards him.

“Thank you.”, she mumbled as she took the clothes which he offered her wordlessly.

Hannibal turned to leave the room and close the door but she held him back with her words.

“Hannibal, wait.”

He turned towards her.

“Could you... would you mind... staying close?”, she asked without looking at him.

“Certainly. I just wanted to give you your privacy.”

He turned his back towards her.

“But I’ll stay if you want me to.”

“Thanks.”

Hannibal could practically feel Annalise slip off her towel and put on his clothes. Although he felt a strong pull to do so, he didn’t turn around. It would have broken the unspoken trust between them.

Funny, as he thought about it, he had planned on killing her tonight not even 24 hours ago. He had wanted to make sure that she would never talk about him to anyone but now he realised that she would do that no more than he would turn around now.

Annalise hung the towel on the rack as she was finished and Hannibal walked out of the room.

“Come.”, he said and she followed him.

“Where are we going?”

“You can’t sleep in your bed anymore, I’ll change the sheets in the morning.”

The psychiatrist opened a door and Annalise stepped through.

“That’s your bedroom.”, she stated as she took in the remarkably decorated room, cool but yet stylish like everything else in Hannibal’s house.

“I will stay on the sofa, you can have my bed.”

She turned towards him.

“No!” She blushed. “I mean, I can go and sleep on the sofa. Or you can stay here and I can stay here as well and...”  
“Would you prefer me to stay?”

She nodded, avoiding his gaze again.

“I don’t mind it at all if you want me to.”, he assured her, able to read her thoughts.

Annalise crawled onto the bed, moving to the side he hadn’t been sleeping on before.

Hannibal joined her, pulling the covers over them and turning off the lights.

“Would you like me to get you something to help you sleep?”, he offered into the darkness.

Annalise shook her head until she realised her couldn’t see her.

“I should be alright.”

“You can wake me up.”

“I’ll try to be quiet.”

Hannibal stared into the darkness for a few minutes, just looking at the silhouette beside him.  
This was a first for him. He had never had anyone sleeping beside him.

Well, not counting his ‘friends’ that used to pay for his company in money, hotel rooms, holidays, etc. but that had been a long time ago.

“Do you want to tell me what your dream was about?”, he questioned quietly, not sure if she was still awake.

He thought she might have fallen asleep because she took her time until she answered.

“That time in Paris. My father. What he took away from me. In these dreams I’m caged, can’t run away. They keep raping me, hurting me. They tell me that I’ll never be free.”

He stayed quiet. He could hear the tears in her voice.

She turned, now facing him.

"Why aren't you in a relationship? You got money, a nice house, a job, you are handsome."

Hannibal laughed out loud. Something he hadn't done in a very long time.

"As I said, I prefer a different kind of relationship.", he carefully answered.

“But I’m sure there is other people who are like you in this point.”

“There are but...”

Hannibal paused and thought about his answer.

“I suppose I’m not the type who prefers long term relationships.”

“So you’re having one night stands.”

Hannibal turned on his side to face her.

“Why do you keep enquiring about my personal life?”

Annalise shrank back a bit.

“I’m sorry. I... I suppose I want to know what I missed in your life. You... when we first met you told me everything. About your life in America, Mischa. And now I... I just had the feeling that you don’t anymore. It was a bad idea coming here. I’ll leave again tomorrow.”

Hannibal reached out with his hand and took hers. Annalise flinched but let him hold her hand.

“I am glad that you found your way back to me. Despite all these years I still feel like you are mine, like I need to, want to, protect you. That hasn’t changed. If you desire so I will let you know everything about what happened. You just have to ask.”

Annalise made a soft, pleased sound.

“So you want me to stay.”

“You could move into the guest room. I barely use it anyway and the house is big. I wouldn’t mind your company.”

Annalise was silent for a moment.

“Just like in Paris?”

Hannibal couldn’t help himself but smile.

“As in Paris.”, he confirmed. “And this time as long as you desire.”

Yes, maybe it was crazy to invite her back into his life just like that but he felt completely at ease with his decision.


	5. Acquaintances

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, more than one chapter today :)  
> Enjoy guys, see you soon.  
> xo

When Annalise woke, the bed beside her was empty. Daylight filtered through the sliver in the drawn curtains. 

She smiled to herself and stretched languidly on the soft mattress. In a very long time she hadn't felt that rested and calm.

Annalise left the bed and put on one of Hannibal's dressing gowns. Silk of course.

In the kitchen she found a tablet and a spare set of house keys on the counter beside some instructions for the breakfast he had prepared for her and that was now waiting in the fridge. For coffee, the only thing she needed to do was press a button and the coffee started brewing.

Annalise sat down with her bowl of fruits with yogurt and her coffee.

She felt utterly cared for even if Hannibal was not with her.

It had been the right decision to look for him although she had doubted that at first. There were so many things about her that weren't the same than twenty years ago but he did know that.

As a little girl she had seen him as her hero, someone not human, more like her guardian angel, someone who would come and rescue her again one day.

Later on as a teenager her feelings had changed a bit. She still had imagined him coming and saving her but the scene in her head was different. It involved more touching. It hadn’t been a sexual fantasy. She never had any of these, her brain associating every possible sexual encounter with pain. She just had dreamed about him holding her, stroking her hair, falling asleep beside her as he had done in Paris.

Growing older, her fantasy involving him had changed again, less the romantic dreaming about him rescuing her but about her taking the initiative and finding him.

She had changed, had learned how to manipulate men into giving her what she wanted once she found out that they were all only slaves to their hormones, no matter the age. She never had given them what they had wanted, obviously, but she had known exactly how to play her good looks against them.

Unlike with other men, she felt safe with Hannibal. Always had and probably always would be. It was nice to have one person on earth whom she could trust.

\---------------------

Annalise returned with her bags only shortly before five.

Hannibal had called her while she was packing her stuff, telling her that some acquaintances of his would be coming over for dinner and apologised for the short notice.

She was not very good with people and preferred to keep her socialising rare but she could hear that he liked it. And she knew him still well enough to know that he would obviously want to show off his excellent cooking skills as often as possible.

She left the taxi, carrying her stuff up the steps to the front door. She unlocked it with the spare set of keys and brought her bags into the guest room, putting her clothes into the wardrobe.

The ringing of the doorbell tore her out of her thoughts and away from her task at hand.

Hannibal had a key so he wouldn't ring. It must be someone else.

Annalise debated with herself if she should open the door since she was only guest in his house but he had said that he was expecting guests today. Maybe one of them was early.

As she opened the door, another woman stood in the doorway, looking at her in surprise before her facial expression changed. She now looked a bit like someone had just slapped her across the face.

"Who are you?", she asked instead of a hello.

Annalise decided that she didn't like that attitude and to play along.

"Since you are standing at my doorstep, I should be the one asking you that."

The painter raised an eyebrow to underline her statement and crossed her arms in front of her body.

"This is not your doorstep.", the brunette, who apparently had no name, snapped.

"Well, since I was inside I would say so, yes."

"Where is Hannibal?", she asked and tried to get into the house past Annalise.

The painter moved her arm so she was blocking the way.

Obviously she was now aware that the woman must be one of Hannibal's acquaintances, he never mentioned the word friends. But the woman was rude and she didn't like that at all.

Annalise might also have been a bit jealous but that wouldn't be something she would admit freely.

"Who do you think you...", she started as Hannibal suddenly appeared behind the woman.

None of them had heard his car arriving.

"Are you okay?", he asked and the brunette turned, her face lighting up at his question but falling again as she realised he didn't look at her.

Annalise nodded.

"I'm sorry, Hannibal, I didn't know...", she started but he cut her off with a gesture.

"You haven't met yet." He moved to stand beside the younger woman. "Alana, this is Alice, the brilliant painter from the new artwork you admired last time. Alice, this is Alana. I have been, and still sometimes am, advising her on her cases."

Only now Annalise realised that she had started to think of herself as Annalise again, something she hadn't done in ages.

"It’s pleasure to meet you.", Annalise said but didn't apologise.

Alana took the offered hand but her eyes still didn't seem happy.

"Likewise.", she answered.

Hannibal led them into the house, offering Alana a drink, beer because she apparently preferred it to wine.

"I see you still have a bottle of the one that you brew just for me.", she said with a smile and movement of her eyes that had Annalise rolling her eyes.

Hannibal smiled at her, not the way he smiled at Annalise, she realised, but in a more composed, controlled way. It satisfied something inside the painter.

"Alana, please excuse us for a moment."

Hannibal didn't see a reason to tell her why.

The psychiatrist took Annalise's arm with his free hand, in the other hand he was holding a black shopping bag now that she hadn't noticed earlier.

\--------------------

Hannibal let her enter his bedroom before he closed the door behind himself.

"My apologies, I didn't know that she would come by early although I should have anticipated it. She usually does."

"She just wasn't very happy to see me."

Hannibal raised an eyebrow at her as he pulled out a different shirt from his wardrobe.

"She's clearly smitten with you.", Annalise huffed and rolled her eyes.

He had seen it when she did it the first time in the kitchen.

"You are jealous because she is in love with me.", he stated, taking off his tie and starting to unbutton his shirt.

He was vain, terribly so, and therefore still had pretty trained abs and chest muscles despite being in his mid-forties. He liked to keep his body fit which was important for the lifestyle he led. And he was definitely aware which effect he had on women and men.

He took off his shirt. He wanted her to look at him like that, wanted her to be impressed by him.

Annalise was not interested in physical relationships. Yet. He know he could change her mind and so did she. 

They just had had too many things which happened between them. They were the only persons they could trust in the whole world and that would never change.

"I need you to be a bit patient, I'm afraid.", he told her as he put on the other shirt, buttoning it again and putting the tie back in place. "I need her in order to get to a person I'm interested in. A person that will be helpful to have on our side."

"Do you ever go on dates with her?”

“Date her? I considered it but at the moment this is not an option anymore.”

“Because of me?”

Hannibal flashed her a glance and a slight smile.

“Yes, because of you darling.”

“But I...”

For the first time since they met again she was at loss for words.

“No more of that now. Come. We have guests to entertain.”

\-------------------

Hannibal was a born chef. He moved around the kitchen with so much grace, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, an apron tied around his hips.

Annalise could watch him all day and not tire of it.

Alana seemed to think more or less the same although she did it less subtle. Her eyes were positively devouring Hannibal as she cut some fruits for dessert together with Annalise.

The painter would have liked to say that she didn’t care but that wasn’t true. She was jealous. Now that she finally found Hannibal again she didn’t care for sharing him with anyone else at all, most certainly not with an overly confident psychiatrist.

The only thing that hurt a bit was that she knew that she did not desire a physical relationship in the same way Alana could give him. She wanted him back as her friend, wanted to do stuff together with him, wanted to be adored and acknowledged by him as he did all these years back in Paris.

She just wanted all of his attention to herself, no matter how selfish that was taking into account that she would not give him what he wanted from her. But she couldn’t stop the feelings. He was hers, he was not supposed to pay attention to someone else as much as he did to her.

If Hannibal was aware of the tension in the room, he did nothing to acknowledge it. He was as poised and calm as always, concentrating on what he was doing.

Alana started some useless psychiatrist’s chit-chat with Hannibal and Annalise knew that she only did it so she wouldn’t have a chance to join the conversation. How childish. She was almost inclined to do something likewise mean. And the almost grew thinner with every passing minute.

Annalise was aware of Hannibal watching her. He seemed to sense what was going on but didn’t stop it. Most likely he was curious about what would happen.

“Hannibal.”, she started and moved over to him, interruption the conversation to put the bowl of her cut fruits beside him.

“Did I do that right?”, she asked in Lithuanian with the most innocent look she could manage.

Of course Hannibal could see through her but for some to her unknown reason he decided to indulge her and to answer her in the same language.

“Are you fighting for my attention, my darling?”, he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Maybe.”

Hannibal smiled lightly.

“Who could have ever thought that my little girl can be so jealous?”

Alana threw them a narrow-eyed look. She couldn’t understand a single word of the conversation going on between the other two. She pretended not to care but Annalise could see that she was uncomfortable. Good.

“My attention is always yours, darling, be assured of that, even if I don’t seem focused on you.”

Hannibal put a hand discreetly on the small of her back.

Annalise pressed back against his touch, wanting to curl up against him like a cat.

“I need a few more strawberries, please.”, the psychiatrist said in English again and she felt herself eagerly responding to his command. Because that’s what it was, not a request.

Alana seemed pleased that he sent her back to her task.

“I never heard you speak in your native language, Hannibal.”

“I had no one to speak it with.”, he answered but it was a lie.

Well, half a lie. He had avoided it also because he didn’t want any reminder of his family, his sister, their killers. He had left that boy and the language behind when he had left the country.

Though he had to admit that it felt good to speak it again, especially with someone he trusted.

\-----------------------

Annalise was terribly bored during dinner, the host could see that. She was asked a few questions by Hannibal’s acquaintances about her work but they had no idea about art, just listened politely. Eventually she gave up talking about it and left it at simple explanations.

Alana had moved to sit between the two of them, of course. It wasn’t that he didn’t like her and there was a time he would have agreed on a casual fling with her because why not. She was quite pretty. But her attachment towards him was a bit unnerving.

Despite her behaviour she was actually smart, he knew that. So if he wanted something from her he knew that he needed to be smarter and most likely pay a price for it. The faster the better now though because since Annalise was back things had changed. He wasn’t willing to sleep with Alana anymore. It surprised himself to think like that but he liked to think of Annalise as his and therefore he was hers, without a question.

As they all had finished their starters, Hannibal rose and took the plates into the kitchen, signalling Annalise with his eyes to stay here.

She rolled her eyes when Alana rose to follow him but stayed obediently in her seat.

Alana watched him as he started to plate the main course.

“So, who is she really?”

Hannibal didn’t look up from what he was doing.

“As I told you already, she is the painter of the artwork I recently bought.”

“But why is she here, Hannibal? She was in your house when I arrived, saying this was her house.”

He smiled. Cheeky little thing. He hadn’t expected his painter to be quite so jealous but he didn’t mind it. He liked it because he would have reacted the same way, if not worse.

“She does live here at the moment, that’s true.”

Alana flashed him a look that was a mixture between horror and jealousy. Her voice wasn’t calm anymore when she next spoke.

“Why would you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Let her live here? While we...”

He didn’t want to go in any depths about his relationship with her. She should think what she wanted but without his consent so he wouldn’t be a liar.

“We used to be friends when we were younger. She needed a place to stay while she was in Baltimore and I offered.”

Alana seemed a bit relieved.

“Will you help me carry these plates into the dining room?”

\-------------------------

Annalise sat on the kitchen counter as Hannibal finished putting away the last plates and pans. He had refused to let her help him and so she was watching him now.

“Are these really the people you usually hang out with?”, she asked.

“Yes, I usually ‘hang out’ with them. But not because I like them."

Hearing Hannibal say hang out made her laugh. He was way too posh to use such a word.

“They are awfully boring. And Alana...”

She rolled her eyes again.

Hannibal stepped closer, leaning beside her on the counter.

“They will have made their opinion about you as well.”

“No doubt they are offended by how you can be friends with such a person.”

He smiled.

“I will get these questions in the future, yes.”

“Will you care?”

“No.”

Annalise watched his eyes closely, feeling at ease for the first time in forever. Finally she was back with the only person she ever trusted in her whole life.

Hannibal crossed his arms in front of his body.

“You requested to see what you missed in my life. I would like to show you, if you’re amenable.”

Annalise nodded.

“There is a club for people with my preferences. I would like to take you tomorrow.”

She thought about it for a moment. What would happen if she didn’t like what she saw? Would she reject his presence, not wanting to stay with him any longer?

Then again, she doubted that could happen. She had seen him kill people, her own father to be precise, and yet he was the only person she would trust in her life.

“Yes, I’d like that very much.”

“Then let’s go to bed so you can get enough rest.”

She nodded and let him help her down the counter.

Later, Annalise left the guest bedroom, changed into her pyjamas, and entered Hannibal’s. He was already in bed, reading something on his tablet.

When she entered the room he looked up and pulled away the covers on the empty side without a word.

Annalise climbed into the bed beside him, curling up under the covers.


	6. Desires

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading and being patient with me.  
> Here's the next chapter. With this one I now established everything so far that we're on the same page, therefore this will be the last chapter without Will, who's going to be a bit dark in this story, but you'll see soon ;)

The next afternoon, Hannibal sat with a book on his sofa, enjoying a quiet moment reading. He had been working on patient files until well past noon, with exception of preparing a light lunch for himself and his guest.

Annalise had been painting for the better part of the day, not having all of her supplies here yet, but enough to work with.

Quiet steps entered the living room but Hannibal did not look up from his book. He knew that his girl, he liked to think of her like this, would come to him if she wanted to.

And so she did.

Annalise took a seat beside him, hesitating, before curling up against his side. Hannibal put an arm around her, letting her close her eyes with a content sigh.

She smelled of fresh paint that was smeared across her hands. He doubted she realised it anymore and found it somehow adorable.

After some time the psychiatrist closed his book.

“I took the liberty of getting you something to dress for tonight since I didn’t assume that you would have anything appropriate to wear.”

Annalise feared for the worst.

“I assume appropriate will be really slutty?”

Hannibal couldn’t help himself but chuckle lightly.

“You assume correctly.”

“I hope you’ll always keep an eye on me then.”

“How could I not.”, Hannibal replied and turned her to look at him. “No one will touch you ever again if you don’t wish to, not as long as I’m here.”

“I know.”, she answers quietly.

“And it would be better for us if you wouldn’t talk to others unless I tell you to. You must understand that some of the Dominants can be very specific and I would hate to hurt them although I would.”

Annalise gave a brief nod.

“Alright, let’s get ready, come on.”

Hannibal stood and lifted her into his arms, carrying her up the stairs. Annalise squirmed and squeaked at first but didn’t object any further so he didn’t let her down.

The psychiatrist opened his closet and pulled out the black bag she had seen in his hands yesterday. 

Annalise carefully took the proffered bag and opened it, pulling out a black leather dress. It was short but thankfully not too short so it would reveal parts of her body she preferred to keep hidden.

He put some heels in front of her, black with a little silver sparkles.

“Thank you. I...”

“It’s alright. Try it for me, please.”

Annalise took off her shirt and the trousers she was wearing at the moment and proceeded to slip into the dress. Hannibal helped her a bit with pulling it up properly and fixing it in place.  
“It suits you.”

“I don’t feel too uncomfortable with it.”, she admitted.

Hannibal himself slipped out of his clothes and exchanged them for black slacks, shirt, shoes and a slivery tie.

As a painter, Annalise knew how to appreciated something that looked nice and he definitely did tonight.

\-------------------------

They entered the stylish club about ab hour later. It was outside Baltimore of course. A stranger wouldn't be able to find it if they wouldn't know it was there in the first place.

Hannibal couldn't tell if Annalise was nervous because she held herself calmly. Then again, she had never, even in the worst situation in her life really looked upset. Which obviously didn't mean that it didn't bother her. 

In all these years in which he had been practising as one of the most renowned psychiatrist and even in his years in hospitals he had seen people dealing different with traumatic events. He was certain that Annalise hadn't yet found the courage to speak, really speak about her feelings. She would mention it to him because he knew what happened but she didn't quite accept it herself yet.

Hannibal was convinced that these feelings would soon come up and she would need to deal with it. He expected a mess but he would be there for her.

Annalise entered the club behind him just as he had told her. She kept her gaze mostly on his shoulders apart from a few glances around the establishment.

A guy, mid-thirties, more or less good looking, depending if one liked smooth baby-like skin and a smile that one could see from miles away, greeted them at the reception.

"Dr Lecter, it's so nice to see you again! Have you been away the past weeks?"

"No Billy, just busy.", he answered but his tone had dropped from his normal voice. It was deeper now, even more commanding and stronger.

Billy had been trying to befriend him and, at some point, even tried to become his sub but Hannibal was strict regarding his subs. He only tolerated perfectly trained ones and almost never spend more time with them than one or two nights or sessions.

He had had some that had lasted longer, although not many, and these were strictly BDSM relationships. None of them had made it to his personal bedroom, none of them had slept with him. Properly slept. As in sleeping at night.

"Dr Lecter, do you have a sub? Like a personal one?"

Hannibal glanced at Annalise, trying to decide what would be best for her.

"She is my friend and here to have a look. She may get a golden wristband as well."

"Of course sir."

Billy handed over two golden wristbands but his eyes didn't leave Annalise.

Hannibal saw that she wasn’t trying to avoid his gaze, on the contrary. She was matching his stare , even challenging him, until he had to look away. Hannibal couldn’t help himself but smile slightly. She would make a challenge as a sub. Maybe she was even a Dominant. Who knew?

He took one of the wristbands and snapped it shut over Annalise's wrist before using the other one himself.

"Thanks Billy." 

Hannibal turned to move away before he remembered.

"Oh, and Billy, book one of the VIP rooms for me for the whole night."

Billy checked his computer.

"Right away sir. I've got... room 3 for you?"

"That'll do. Please make sure it has my usual set up."

"Of course doctor. It will be ready in half an hour."

Hannibal moved on and a security guard, who just gave a polite nod towards him, opened a huge double door.

Hannibal entered, Annalise still following him.

He felt her freeze behind him so he gently took her hand and tugged her on to the bar, where they stopped. It was probably not what she had been expecting.

The wall weren't red but gold. The lights were dimmed but it didn't give off the atmosphere that they were in a sex club, more in an exclusive Champagne lounge. In the middle was a high stage, visible and surrounded by tables with sofas on three sides. On the back opposite the stage were booths without the clichéd curtains though. All the furniture was white and gold. It was, simply said, pretty and looked a lot more like heaven than hell.

\----------------------

Annalise was a bit taken aback and that usually never happened to her. But seeing this club as it was, it was not the dark dungeon she had expected. No chains were tangling from the ceiling but it was stylish and looked as if you could spend a posh evening here.

If it weren’t for the people around them. The Dominants were visibly different from their submissives even if they were standing beside each other. It started with the fact that each sub was dressed in less clothing than their Dom, although it wasn’t a general rule.

Some of the Dominants seemed to prefer light clothing too.

Most subs were kneeling on the floor or on all fours, following their masters crawling. Actually all of them, Annalise realised now, wore collars. Some with leashes attached to their master’s wrist, others without.

“They are all wearing collars.”, Annalise whispered into Hannibal’s ear.

He nodded.

“A sign of possession and submission.”

“Did you ever have someone wear your collar?”

“No. Wearing someone’s collar is like being in a relationship with them. You agree to belong to someone and they agree to take care of you. I never had that with a sub before. I preferred not to be attached.”

Hannibal took two drinks from the bartender and handed one over to Annalise.

“There you go mylimasis.”

People were looking at her, she felt their gazes on her body, and she moved instinctively closer to Hannibal.

“They are just wondering who you are.”, he whispered in her ear. “I met some of my previous subs here at the club but never brought one with me when I came. You irritate them.”  
“I’m not sure if that is good or...”

She was interrupted by a cheerful: “Hannibal!”

They turned their heads to see a blonde man smiling at them. Just like Annalise he looked way younger than he probably actually was, being all skinny. His skin was ridiculously pale and he only wore a pair of tight, long leather trousers. Glitter was dusted all over his upper body and he wore light eye make-up. Around his neck he wore a black leather collar with sparkling diamonds.

“Nathaniel. Where is your master?”

“Getting a drink.”, the young man grinned.

From close he was taller than Annalise, which was not so difficult, but still smaller than Hannibal.

“So you just decided to wander off again.”

“I wanted to say hi to you and your new sub.”

Nathaniel’s green eyes focused on Annalise now. He looked intrigued but kind, a person she could probably warm to.

A man in Hannibal’s age, still in the same good shape, with a little less danger in his eyes though, appeared behind Nathaniel, putting a hand on his shoulder, his other hand holding a drink.

“Neil.”

“Hannibal.”

Their greeting was formal but Annalise could tell that the two men liked or at least respected each other.

“You are the topic of the evening, Hannibal.”, Neil smiled and nodded at Annalise.

“As much as that pleases me to hear, Alice is not my sub but my friend. She is just having a look around.” For now. But that hovered unspoken in the air although they all knew it was there.

“Too bad. I’m sure Nathaniel was looking forward to a playmate.”

Nathaniel nodded eagerly.

“He is the only sub I would let her play with.”, Hannibal answered and put a hand on Annalise’s shoulder.

“Maybe we could still meet up for a drink or so sometime.”, Nathaniel suggested to Annalise.

“Yes, I’d like that.”, she answered to her surprise.

She didn’t know anyone in this town, apart from Hannibal. Alright, there were his acquaintances but she didn’t like them at all. Nathaniel seemed to be in her age and fun. At least she would have someone to talk to.

“Great. Hannibal has my number.”

Neil turned towards the room.

“Are you doing a show tonight?”

Hannibal looked around as well.

“No.”

Annalise wasn’t sure what they meant by show but she had a pretty good idea what it could be.

“Then let’s take a seat so we can watch together.”, Neil suggested.

They made their way through the crowd to two small sofas in the back of the room. They were more secluded than the others with still a good view towards the stage.

Neil and Nathaniel sat on one couch, Hannibal and Annalise on the other.

Nathaniel immediately climbed in Neil’s lap, trying to kiss him. Neil chastised him at first but then gave in to the playful boy. They seemed to really love each other.

Annalise hadn’t thought it possible to be in love and practise this kind of activity but they were the living proof.

She didn’t know anything about love. For her it was a myth. But when she saw these two playing around, having fun with each other, being content with being with each other, she felt like this was something that she wanted as well. And there was only one person she had ever come close to loving.

Annalise turned towards Hannibal.

“Do you love me?”

Hannibal smiled and put his glass down on the small table before he took hers and did the same. Then he faced her again.

“Why are you asking?”

“I... I don’t know. I never had someone who loved me but I always supposed you did after we met in Paris. You were the person closest to me so I thought I might love you too. But then I never was sure what love is because I had nothing and no one to compare it to.”

Hannibal thought for a moment before he answered.

“Yes, I always loved you and still do. And from all your actions, you love me too. Love is a very difficult concept. I’m not sure if I’m entirely capable of feeling it too, but there is definitely something I feel for you and I would name it love. Maybe it is different from how other people feel love but how can one tell?”

Annalise nodded slowly.

“Yes, I suppose in my own way I do love you.” She thought. “Are we then supposed to kiss? Do... whatever?”

“If you want to try, we could. But with everything that happened, I’m quite content without doing so.”

“I might want to try it one day.”

“You know that I would give you everything you desire.”

The lights dimmed and people stopped their chatting, taking a seat. The show was about to start and Annalise would find out first hand what it exactly was that Hannibal was into.

Hannibal watched her and she was aware of it during the whole show. It was a female Dominant whipping a male until he started to cry. She then continued to break him with some hot candle wax on his already sore skin. The man stayed hard during the whole performance. Eventually the woman used some nipple clamps and tricks that Annalise wasn’t entirely sure about and he came on stage, panting and not able to walk off stage without help.

Annalise wasn’t exactly excited by what she had seen but she also wasn’t disgusted. It was something she could get used to. She had had to deal with pain her whole life, a bit more wasn’t the issue. She would be willing to try that for Hannibal if it wasn’t for the sexual act.

She had never been properly aroused before. Sure, she knew the warm feeling in her belly that she sometimes had but that didn’t last long and it never went beyond that. She was almost certain that there was something wrong with her in this area.

\---------------------

Hannibal led her into one of the spacious private rooms equipped with a huge bed and an adjacent bathroom with a gigantic bathtub. Obviously the room held also all kinds of hooks for chains, a St Andrew’s cross and ever toy that was used for BDSM, most of them which let Annalise shiver a bit. She didn’t even know what to do with them but they didn’t look pleasant.  
“I thought we’ll take a bath and have a chat.”, Hannibal suggested and Annalise agreed.

She had no fear of being naked in front of Hannibal and did not fear his nakedness either. She knew that he would. Not suddenly ravish her without her consent.

After the bath had filled with enough water and foam, they took off their clothes and slid into the tub on the opposite ends. The tub was big enough so their legs didn’t have to touch if they didn’t want them to.

Annalise toyed with the foam as she spoke.

“I’m sure there is something wrong with me.”

Hannibal raised an eyebrow at her.

“I have never felt arousal like the man on stage today. He was completely consumed by it. He was lost.”

“You told me you haven’t had any partner yet.”

“I didn’t. But only because I’m not able to feel like this.”

Hannibal watched her fingers scoop up the foam.

“Maybe you should try it the other way round. Find someone you completely trust and then find out if you can feel something.”

“What if I don’t?”

“There is nothing wrong in being asexual.”

“I would lose you, wouldn’t I?”

Hannibal caught her gaze and saw that this was the only thing she was really afraid of.

“No. What we have will always be special.”

“But you would want to be with other women. Like Alana.”

“We would see about that when it comes to it. For now I can safely say that I am more than content.”

Annalise leaned her legs against his, enjoying the feeling. There was something she knew but couldn’t tell him. He still had hopes that she might be normal, come time. However, she was certain that nothing about her would change not even if she was with the only person she ever trusted in her whole life.

But she couldn’t risk losing him. Eventually she would need to let him do whatever he wanted to her. She would pretend to like it and everything would be alright.


	7. Decisions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so here we go for Jack, Bedelia aaaaand... William <3 And finally more action and plot :D  
> Thanks for your many kudos again.

Will Graham hated the FBI. No, that wasn’t true. He hated Jack Crawford.

Why? Well, Jack wanted him back in the field, wanted him to be an active profiler again. He wanted him to go and work with his team, other people mind you, whereas he was more than content to not speak to anyone in particular the whole day.

He hated talking to people, absolutely loathed it. Especially when working in a team they always asked you questions and were doing small talk. Why on earth would someone want to do small talk? This was the most boring thing on earth. How’s the weather today? Oh yes, my dog is so cute too. Blaaaah...

Anyways...

Will was quite content to just teach his students how to penetrate the mind of a killer and they could go out and do it then. But Jack wouldn’t leave him alone. He wanted Will’s help because Will was unique. Unique but everyone called him a freak for what he could do.

Because Will had a talent. Will could see crime scenes in the perspective of the killer with only looking at it. He could tell what he did, when, why and, most important of all, he could feel what the killer felt in these moments. He could find out their motive which would ultimately lead to them catching the killer and Jack Crawford getting all the credit. Not that Will himself cared for any credit, he just didn’t want the man to have it either.

A few months ago Jack had talked him into investigating a serial killer who had been and still was terrorizing Baltimore, the so called Chesapeake Ripper. After a lot of persuasion on Jack’s part, Will had agreed to have a look at the scenes.

Not long after, after the second murder out of three as it was the usual habit of the Ripper, Will had lost it. He knew in advance that he was nowhere near stable enough to look at these crime scenes and so did Jack.

Jack had lured him with the fact that innocent people were dying and Will couldn’t help himself but agree to assist him. He knew it hadn’t been a great idea.

After his recovery, which had been in a mental hospital, he went back to teaching his students, staying out of everything as good as he could.

But it wasn’t his mental stability that worried him when he thought about going back. He had a secret, nothing he would ever be able to tell anyone and the only reason why he could never ever go back into the filed. Not unless he wanted to lose the person he was completely.

Now Jack was here again, had waited until his last lecture of the day had finished and then practically assaulted the professor in his office. He wouldn’t give up, and Will was frankly very much annoyed by this.

“Jack you can leave again. There’s nothing we have to talk about.”, Will said and turned off the projector still showing gruesome pictures of a crime scene.

“Will, listen to me for just one moment.”

Will huffed, putting his hands on his desk, leaning against it and dropping his head.

“I’m not looking at any Ripper crime scenes again. Forget it.”

“Will, you’re the only one...”

Will looked up but in a general direction of Jack’s tie. He wasn’t very fond of eye contact.

“I can’t do it.”

“People are dying.”

“Jack...”

“If you want to let them die it’s up to you, Will.”

Always the same argument. He had nothing else in store but the lost lives of innocents. Yes, it was true and it was horrible but Will was sick of hearing it. The world was an unfair place. Maybe some people were predators and some prey, just as it was in nature. If one animal killed another it just meant that the one was stronger than the other. Maybe some people needed to learn to become stronger, including himself. He felt like he was easy prey for Jack but that had to end if Will wanted to go on living with himself at peace.

“No you don’t get to tell me that people are dying. They are dying because you are not able to do your job.”

Jack got angry. Good.

“Right now I’m doing my job and telling you that I need your help.”

“Forget it, Jack.”

“The Ripper is scary but he will not get us. Not with your help.”

Will almost would have laughed out loud. Almost.

Poor old Jack thought that Will was scared of the Ripper. No, he definitely wasn’t scared. He was intrigued. He wanted to see what the man was capable of. He could position his victims in perfect artwork, taking rapists, murderers but also people who cheated on their partner, who robbed people of money, homophobes. Yes, this was something only Will had found out and he had decided not to share it with the FBI. He had no doubt he could catch the Ripper eventually but he didn’t want to.

Also he was a bit scared to get lost in the man’s darkness and never be able to go back. And then Jack would have to deal with two Rippers. Bit not good. At least for Jack.

So there it was. He had officially thought about it. He had admitted it to himself. It was strange to accept the thought that had been the only one on his mind while he had been in mental hospital but he knew it was true. And therefore he needed to stay as far away from everything as possible.

Will packed his stuff into his bag, putting it over his shoulder.

“There is nothing more to say, Jack. We’re done.”

Will brushed past Jack out of the lecture hall.

“Will! There is something else.”

Will sighed and stopped.

“What is it?”

“About my wife.”

Will turned around slowly.

“Bella?”

Jack nodded.

“She’s dead since over a year.”

“I’m well aware of that, I’m not stupid.”, he snapped. “But I finally found out which psychiatrist she’s been seeing before she left me. Before he told her to leave me.”

Will didn’t want to get caught up in Jack’s chit-chat about his wife but he couldn’t help himself. 

They had never been exactly friends but Will knew a bit about the FBI chief’s wife and it certainly wasn’t anyone else’s fault that she had left.

“He slept with her.”, Jack carried on before Will could voice his thought.

Will doubted that too but decided not to say anything. He got it that it must have been a shock to Jack that his wife had cancer. Then another one when she had decided to leave him to spend her last months living in Cuba alone instead of with her husband who was never home.

Will wasn’t sure what had occurred between the two of them but with Jack being as jealous as he was it was no hard guess work even for someone who didn’t have Will’s abilities. 

Jack came closer and Will automatically stepped back.

“He fucked her.”, Jack repeated in a more crude language as if he could make it sound worse like this.

“How can you be sure?”

“She left me.” Jack was positively fuming now. “That’s evidence enough. She went to see him almost every day in the end, before she left I mean. I wouldn’t be surprised if he went to Cuba with her too.”

Will doubted that but again he didn’t say so.

“So what are you planning on doing? Sue him?”

Jack smiled broadly, anger still twisting his face in a very disturbing way.

“No. That’s why I need your help.”

Will waited.

“I want to lock him away until the end of his days.”

“Just like that?”

“I’m... We’re going to frame him for something.”, Jack said as if it had been decided already.

“Jack he is an innocent.”

The whole action would be low, very low, even for a man like Jack.

When Will had first met Jack Crawford, he had thought him to be a respectable man with a great marriage and a beautiful house. The man had turned out to be someone Will would rather not be on the wrong side of. Sure, everyone had their flaws and Will was definitely not without either but sometimes Jack didn’t sound like the FBI agent he should be.

“He certainly wasn’t innocent when he fucked my wife. I don’t want to know how many of his other patients he used to fuck. I just know he did his own psychiatrist.”

Will shook his head. That was becoming too absurd. Jack was definitely loosing his mind. Before himself even. That was something he hadn’t anticipated.

“I will not help you putting an innocent person into jail.”

“No one would ever find out. And his lawyer will most likely be able to get him out. This way we might at least hurt his pride and destroy his reputation.”

“And then your wife will be alive again? No Jack, there’s no way I’ll help you do this.”

“Fine.”, Jack lifted a finger in warning. “Don’t you dare standing in my way though. No one would believe some insane guy anyways.”

“I don’t care about what you do, Jack. Just leave me alone.”

Jack looked as if he wanted to say something else but seemed to think better of it and left Will by himself in the empty lecture hall.

Will wasn’t one to get involved in other people’s affairs but if he hadn’t hated Jack before now it was definitely the case.

The professor didn’t like injustice because that was what people usually did to him. They judged him, saying he was something he wasn’t, did something he didn’t do.

Will was sure he could find out the name of the psychiatrist and at least warn him. But on the other side he really didn’t want to get involved. He could also just wait and see what Jack would do. But that would mean Jack would get what he wanted.

Will would just keep an eye on him and react if he needed to. Maybe Jack would mess up by himself as he usually managed to do.

\-------------------

Hannibal took Annalise with him to the opera. She hated to socialise with his friends but she appreciated his love for arts and never had been to the opera before. She was intrigued about the music, the acting on stage, the sheer beauty of the opera house itself.

Her dress tonight was simple and the colour of midnight. Hannibal had taken her to a ridiculously expensive shop and bought it for her. She had insisted that it wasn’t necessary but he had said he wanted her to look good at his side. She had known it had been a joke but still.

The first act was fascinating for Annalise. When it stopped for the intermission she was confused at first by the loss of the beautiful music which had stopped to envelope her.

Hannibal touched her shoulder gently.

“Are you alright?”

“It’s beautiful.”, she whispered, hugging him tightly.

Hannibal was surprised. Although he hated any public displays of affection he couldn’t help himself but hug her back. After all, he had allowed her that in Paris as well, hugging and carrying her around.

Annalise pulled back, almost embarrassed by her reaction.

“I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to apologise for. Would you care for a glass of champagne?”

The young painter followed him to the bar. After receiving their glasses, they went to stand in a quiet corner so they could talk.

“Don’t you have some people to talk to?”

“They’ll come to me if they see me, don’t worry about that. Although they might be a bit jealous tonight.”

Annalise raised her eyebrow.

“Of me? I doubt that.”

“You are young and beautiful. Two adjectives that don’t describe most of the women in here.”

Annalise chuckled quietly.

“I didn’t know you could be mean.”

“I’m merely being honest. There is a difference.”

Annalise felt like the child back in Paris again. He slowly started to open up to her again like he did twenty years ago. It felt incredible and she felt more and more comfortable with him.

“Hannibal.”, came a female voice from beside them.

They turned and Annalise’s gaze met a blonde woman’s, more or less in Hannibal’s age. She looked so well put together that Annalise didn’t believe she was real. Her aura seemed to glow around her, although her smile was fake.

“Bedelia. Nice to see you.”

Hannibal took her hand and pretended to kiss it.

“I wasn’t expecting you tonight.”

“I was lucky to get tickets.”

Annalise didn’t fail to notice that he didn’t introduce her. It was impolite for Hannibal’s standards so he mustn’t value the woman’s, Bedelia’s, company.

“I see you came with a friend?”

Now he hadn’t much choice but Hannibal was a master of words.

“I did. And you are by yourself?”, he turned the question back to her.

Something like hurt flashed across Bedelia’s face at his words but she caught herself within seconds and went back to her fake smile.

“I would have preferred to go with you, Hannibal.”

Hannibal didn’t reply.

Annalise knew that Bedelia wanted to find out who she was. She clearly had a past with the psychiatrist but she didn’t feel the same pang of jealousy that she had felt when Alana had been around.

“We used to do that a lot.”

“We used to do a great many things that we’re not doing anymore, Bedelia.”

“We could start again.”

“No we couldn’t. That chapter is over.”

Bedelia hugged Hannibal just as the bell sounded, telling them it was time to go back inside. She kissed his cheek and whispered something into his ear.

Before she left, she threw a last, not legible look at Annalise.

The painter and Hannibal went back inside, taking their seats.

“She’s beautiful.”

Hannibal didn’t reply but watched the still empty stage.

“You liked her quite a bit.” It wasn’t a question.

“She was the closest to a relationship I ever had. She was my submissive, before that my therapist. I stopped seeing her professionally when we started our relationship.”

“She doesn’t seem like a sub.”

“She isn’t. She did it for me although she had no particular interest in that kind of relationship but I made it clear to her that that was the only one I was interested in.”

Annalise swallowed. Bedelia had done what kept following her in her head. She had proven that it was possible. Surely after that Hannibal would expect her now to do the same.

How could she have been so stupid as to think that she would be the only woman to see Hannibal as the desirable man he was. That had been truly childish. Now it was up to her to beat what Bedelia had already done because clearly he had gotten bored of her and ended their relationship.

“She tried to change me.”, he said as if he could read her thoughts.

Annalise felt a light wave of relief washing over her. She didn’t want to change Hannibal in any way.

“Would you still be with her if she hadn’t tried that?”

Hannibal took his time to answer.

“Possibly. But I didn’t love her, if that is your question. I would not have moved in with her. We connected in a physical way, it made sense for us to be officially ‘together’ with so many shared interests. It was good for my reputation and for hers.”

“You do look like you have been the perfect couple.”

“I trusted her to a certain degree, told her things I didn’t tell anybody else, but still I couldn’t be completely honest with her. There was always this barrier between us. Just as she did not completely open up to me.”

“You both appear the same in public. There is something about you, you are so poised and controlled.”

“A person suit, she used to call it. We both prefer to wear it all the time.”

“You take yours off when you are at home alone.”

The lights dimmed again and the music began.

“You are mistaken, darling.”, Hannibal whispered into her ear. “I take mine off when I’m alone with you.”

\-----------------

Will heard his dogs barking and immediately knew that there was someone approaching his house. He heard the knock on the door a few seconds later and got up to answer the door.

Alana stood on his front porch, smiling at him.

Will couldn’t deny how charming she looked and if you would have asked him if he was into her, he probably would have said yes. However, he knew that she only saw him as a friend. As everyone else seemed to.

“Alana. Come in please. I wasn’t expecting you.”

“Will. It’s so good to see you.”

She hugged him. Will hugged her back but it was really awkward when he did it.

“I was in the area and wanted to see how you are doing.”

Will closed the door behind her.

“Jack sent you.”

Alana’s smile dropped a bit.

“He might have done that. But only because he is really desperate.”

“I will tell you the same as I told him, Alana. I can’t hunt the Ripper nor any other serial killer anymore. We tried that and you know how it ended.”

Alana crossed her arms in front of her body at the memory of Will’s breakdown. He had been in mental hospital for a few weeks before he could be released again.

“What if I could ensure you that this will not happen again?”

“How exactly would you do that?”

“With the help of a psychiatrist. You would have someone to guide you when you cannot see the light anymore.”

“You offering yourself?”

Alana shook her head, not looking at him.

“No. You know I couldn’t do this. We are too attached. It will be someone I trust but who is one of the best in his area of expertise. He used to be a forensic psychiatrist as well some time ago, he’ll be able to hold you up.”

Will sighed. He didn’t want to do it.

Of course he knew that there were people dying but the Ripper’s victims were far from innocent. And any other serial killer the FBI could handle themselves, even if they weren’t as fast as with Will’s help.

However, the risk that he would get more and more attached and attracted to the Ripper’s call was his biggest issue. He was just so on the brink of not looking for him, could keep himself from putting together the pieces.  
He didn’t want to know what happened if he got more and more involved in the case, properly studying his work. God forbid he would find out who he was. Will wasn’t sure he could control the darkness that lived inside himself then anymore.

He was alright if he stayed away from everything, just caught in his boring teaching job.

His last mental breakdown had resulted from him trying to fight the growing darkness, trying to be someone he wasn’t. He had resisted any urge to kill, had managed to keep himself under control, but lost his mind over it.

In hospital he had learned to accept who he was without acting upon it. He had decided that he could live with it if there was nothing that triggered it. So he had gone back to teaching and that was that.

Until Jack decided to show up again because he himself was useless.

In the end it would be his, and now Alana’s, fault that he became a serial killer. The idea was thrilling and if he had so many people begging for it his resolve slowly broke. He didn’t like it but he had learned to accept it. To a certain degree.

Also the new therapist wouldn’t be able to help him. What should he tell him? How he felt drawn to serial killers, well especially one particular serial killer?

They would put him back into hospital for good and that’s that.

But he had the chance to work with the Ripper again.

And because of the psychiatrist others would feel safe, would think he was still sane. Which he was. Just a different sane from other people.

Will sighed.

“Does Jack know the psychiatrist you’re sending me to?

Alana shook her head.

“No. You don’t need to be afraid of him asking about you. He doesn’t work for Jack or the FBI, he’ll be there for you only. If you don’t want me to, I’ll not even tell Jack who he is.”

“I’d very much prefer that.”

Alana smiled at him. Will couldn’t help himself but think that she too was fake to a certain degree. He didn’t know why she decided to work with Jack against him but he didn’t like it.

“Alright Alana. But if I end up in hospital again...”

Alana smiled at him.

“You won’t, I promise. I’ll refer you to Dr Lecter right away and you can go see him before you even start your work so you can get acquainted.”

Will just smiled back. She had no idea what she had just done.


	8. William

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will and Hannibal finally meet (:

Hannibal Lecter sat in his office, writing something in his appointment book. He had just seen out his second to last patient for the day. The next one would be a challenge. It was a person he had only heard of so far but he was very eager to meet him. William Graham. Agent William Graham.

Alana had done her job wonderfully, exactly as he had predicted it, and referred her friend to him so he would be able to go back into the active hunting of killers instead of just teaching his students about them.

Hannibal was intrigued because of what he had heard about William from Alana. She had told him, months ago already, about her special friend. His mind worked apparently different from everyone else’s. She hadn’t been exactly sure how to explain it to him, struggling for words.

At this time she had still been, more or less, romantically interested in William, he had realised that immediately. But he had also known that her professional curiosity was far stronger and she would never act upon it. So he had taken it to himself to flirt with her and make sure that she would stay faithful to him, even after she didn’t need him as her advisor anymore.

Sometimes he found it amazing how attraction, love, blinded people. Alana was a smart psychiatrist, excellent at what she was doing, but still could be manipulated that easily.

It all became a bit harder now, having a person back in his life he hadn’t expected, but he trusted Annalise and knew she was on his side. She would fight for him if it came down to it.

She didn’t know that he was the Chesapeake Ripper yet. Didn’t know that he was killing people. Exceptionally rude and ill-mannered people but still killing them. He wasn’t entirely sure what she would think about it but that was something he would deal with when it came down to it.

Annalise had seen him kill when she was only a child and hadn’t been afraid of him. She was adult now and that might have changed. Also she might not take the fact that she had been eating human flesh. Hannibal had tried to avoid it but at their last dinner party he couldn’t help himself. He could have warned her, but then he would have been stuck with endless explanations. And the urge to feed his dinner guests his meat had been too strong.  
He would need to tell her if he intended to keep her. Which he obviously did.

A soft knock at his door let Hannibal look up. A quick check of his wristwatch confirmed that William Graham was five minutes early. Just enough to be polite. He already was inclined to like the younger man.

Hannibal stood, buttoned his jacket and went to open the door.

The man in front of him did not meet his eyes he realised immediately. His gaze lingered somewhere on Hannibal’s right shoulder.

“Dr Lecter?”, he asked.

“You must be William Graham.”

“Alana sent me to see you.”

“Please do come in.”, Hannibal invited him and opened the door so William could step into the office.

“Make yourself comfortable anywhere you like.”, the psychiatrist offered as he closed the door.

William took his seat in one of the leather chairs, looking slightly uncomfortable.

Hannibal came to sit across him, opening his jacket as he sat down, crossing one leg over another.

“Dr Bloom told me that you are here because of your work.”

William looked at him, not directly at him but somewhere at his right cheek, with a look that Hannibal had difficulty to read.

“What else did Alana tell you?”

“Not much. I prefer to hear it from you rather than Dr Bloom’s version although I do value her professional opinion.”

“That was a very diplomatic answer, doctor.”, William almost snapped.

Hannibal could tell that he did not want to be here and most certainly didn’t want someone to poke around in his brain.

“William, I am deeply sorry if I offended you. I just would like to help you if you let me.”

“Good luck trying.”, William murmured sarcastically. “You wouldn’t be the first one.”

“I will try my best.”

For the first time their eyes met. It was only for a brief second but Hannibal had the feeling that William could see through him, could read him, properly see him. There was also something behind Will’s eyes that was hiding. A monster, not unlike his own, still mostly asleep but definitely there. This man was becoming more and more interesting.

Hannibal gave him a small, polite smile.

“You have been working as agent before but you stopped. Why?”

William huffed annoyed, looking away towards the many books in Hannibal’s office.

“Are they all yours?”

Hannibal followed his gaze.

“Yes. I would offer you to borrow one if you’d like but I’m afraid not many of them are in English.”

“I assumed as much by your accent.” William faced him again. “It’s difficult, isn’t it? Being the only one of your kind in the country, having no one to speak your language with, no one who understands you.”

Hannibal knew that Will was referring to himself and didn’t interrupt him.

“That’s how I feel. I’m alone. There is no one like me, at least no one I’ve ever met. No one can help me because they do not understand.”

Hannibal had felt the same way when he was a child. When he had started to kill people at a very young age. When he had revenged his family and his sister.

“What is it that makes you think you are alone, William?”

“My ability. My gift.” He spat out the word ‘gift’.

“Would you care to explain?”

William frowned.

“Not really but I suppose you need to know in order to help me stay sane.”

Hannibal said nothing.

“”It’s hard to explain. I can put myself in the headspace of killers once I see their crime scenes. I can feel what they felt. I see why they did what they did. What the way meant in which they were killed. I’m able to find a pattern in their killings before others do. I can reconstruct the murder in my head.”

“You are an empath. A very strong one.”

“Closer to Asperger’s then to psychopath though.”

“Empaths usually have trouble with social interactions, that doesn’t mean you’re autistic.”

“That’s apparently not what the doctors in the hospital thought.”

“Hospital?”

“I had... Before I dropped out I had a mental breakdown. I was put in a mental hospital for a few weeks. I hated it and vowed never to go back. That’s why I didn’t want to go back into the field.”

Interesting. But William was lying. He had been in mental hospital alright but that wasn’t all. There was something to the story, something that happened in the hospital, that he wasn’t telling.

That was probably the reason why the doctors had thought he was autistic. William was good at lying, hiding beneath his façade of innocence and social anxiety but there was something more to him. Hannibal could feel it just as he had clearly been able to see the monster lurking behind the agent’s eyes.

“But you are planning to. That’s why you are here.”

“And your job is to keep me sane, doctor.”

Hannibal met William’s gaze once more and this time the younger man held it.

\-----------------------

Will let himself into his house in Wolf Trap, Virginia, still lost in thoughts.

There had been something strange, something almost extraordinary, about his meeting with the psychiatrist. That he couldn’t put a finger on what it was, irritated him, and made the situation even more special since this was, due to his empathy, never the case.

There was something about Dr Lecter that made him feel understood. Something that told him the man wasn’t at all so different from himself. Maybe he was also an empath? It would suit with him being a psychiatrist although Will wasn’t sure how he put up with all the different problems, how he dealt with forgetting them once they had entered his system.

Also the fact that he had made eye contact with the doctor was a novelty. He never did that, not even with Alana but something in him had told him to do it. Had told him that it was fine.

And when their eyes finally met it had felt like he had been looking through a mirror, seeing some part of himself reflected back.

Will wasn’t sure how he felt about all this. He wasn’t used to trusting people, letting them into their lives, to human contact in general. He chose his life out here in the middle of nowhere, chose to be alone.

Now he felt as if he wanted to see the doctor again, now, and find out more about him during their session.

Will’s mobile phone rang and pulled him out of his thoughts.

Only now he realised that he had stopped in the doorway, some of his dogs already outside, playing and running, the other half standing at his side, looking at him expectantly, wanting to be petted.

Will heeded their wish and started to pet Winston, who was, secretly, his favourite although being the latest addition to his pack. Simultaneously he pulled out his mobile and picked up without checking the caller ID. There was only two people who’d ever call him. Jack and Alana. The first more often than the letter, although this time it was the psychiatrist on the other end of the line.

“Hi Will. How did your appointment with Hanni... Dr Lecter go?”

Will could hear the blush in her voice as she had nearly used the doctor’s first name. He wondered briefly if there was something romantically going on between the two of them. He couldn’t blame Hannibal, she was quite attractive.

On the other hand, he could also not blame Alana. There was something about Dr Lecter that made him very attractive. And Will blamed this thought now to the fact that he hadn’t gotten laid in... well, an a few days short of forever.

He didn’t like physical contact too much but could make exceptions if he was vaguely attracted to the person, which was very hard. Some would say he was very picky and that was true but not because he was vain or had so many options. It was due to his empathy that he could only, well, screw people, yes male and female – one couldn’t be picky with the limited amount of people in question – if they were emotionally absolutely stable and only wanted a quick fuck, not attachments, no bonds, no names. Faceless people almost.

“Great. We had a nice chat.”

Alana let out something like a relieved sigh.

“So you’re going back on the Ripper case?”

Will knew it was a bad idea but feeling himself far too gone and too attracted to the Chesapeake Ripper to say no though. They would have to deal with the consequences not he. He wouldn’t need to hunt himself down. And he knew that he could just slip into the Ripper’s headspace and disappear into plain sight. Because this, Will was pretty sure, was what the Ripper was doing. He was probably sitting on his sofa, a glass of wine in his hand, laughing at the FBI’s ridiculous attempts to find him.

“Yes, I am.”

\---------------------------

Hannibal took a sip of his wine, savouring the unique taste of his favourite vintage.

“Are you not scared that he will fall back to his mental illness?”, Annalise asked, leaning against Hannibal on the sofa, a book in her lap.

Soft classical music was playing in the background.

Hannibal shifted his arm so that it was around her now.

“Scared? No. There is something else going on with him but I don’t know what it is.”

“You’ll find out. You always do.”

Hannibal gave her a soft smile. It was the a real smile that reached his eyes, a smile he hadn’t used in ages.

“I think I heard his name before.”

“Really?”

Now Hannibal was curious. How smart was his little girl really?

“Yeah. On a website that was open on your tablet. Crime something. The lady who wrote the article apparently declared him insane after his last visit to a crime scene. He was on some case a while ago. Chesapeake Ripper case?”

“Yes, I read about that.”

Annalise shifted, lying her head comfortably against his collar bone.

“Is that why you are interested in him?”

Hannibal froze internally but didn’t let her notice it. Did she know? Has she found out before someone else did? She would be the first to discover it on her own. And he did not doubt her abilities. He knew that she remembered what had happened in Paris although they did not talk about it.

The psychiatrist decided not to answer. He knew very well that she would ask if there was something on her mind. He wasn’t sure how much she knew, or suspected, but he also knew that she was no thread to him. If she proved to be one, he could always lock her up in his basement but he doubted that it would come to this.

“The men.”, Annalise started and her body tensed as the book slid from her lap onto the sofa. “Are they...?”

She took deep breaths.

Hannibal set his glass aside, pulling her up into his lap.

Annalise looked at him with lost, sad eyes behind which an anger, like Hannibal had seldom seen, was burning.

“I found all of three of them.”

Hannibal wasn’t sure if he should tell her his secret. But no, it wasn’t the right time. He would present her with his gift later. Once she was ready. And she would be.

Annalise nodded.

“Good. And...” She gesticulated around herself. “The others?”

Hannibal just looked at her. There was no fear in her eyes neither revulsion.

“Why did you...? The Chesapeake Ripper. They are your kills, are they not?”

Annalise swallowed. Maybe she was a bit scared now that she had brought this up. He was sure that she was certain that he wouldn’t kill her.

“Why would you assume that?”

“There were pictures on this site. Of the crime scenes. They... the bodies are arranged like artworks, not a single thing where it shouldn’t belong. They are perfect. They have your handwriting all over.”

Hannibal was so proud of his girl. All these years and she still knew him perfectly, caught on to him in a few weeks only. 

“Are you scared now?”, he asked although he knew the answer.

Annalise shook her head.

“I’m still sitting in your lap, am I not?”

“Indeed you do.”

Annalise pressed tighter against him. He could feel the heat of her thigh through the thin material of his slacks. Carefully and subtly he tried to move her a bit because he was, after all, also only a man although his composure was made of iron. He simply didn’t want to scare her off or imply anything that would make her feel bad.

Annalise looked at him. He could see in her face that she was thinking, struggling with something before she bend forward, letting her lips hover only millimetres from his own.

Her hand wandered up the inside of his thigh and gripped him carefully through his trousers.

Hannibal would have lied if he would have said that he did not enjoy her hands on him but it was wrong. It felt wrong when she started to rub him carefully and he gripped her wrist, pulling her hand away, gently.

“Darling.”, he warned softly as she started to struggle free from his grip.

Annalise cast her eyes downwards, dropping her resolve.

Hannibal put his arms around her, kissing her head.

He knew why she did it.

“I shouldn’t have told you about Bedelia.”

“You said she adapted for you. She did it to make you happy, to be with you. If I can’t even do that for you, how can I stay with you.”

Hannibal couldn’t help himself but smile slightly. There was such a childlike innocence about her that made his chest swell.

“You are not her. You are mine. Were from the moment I got you out of that godforsaken hotel room. I do not give up what’s mine, I am too possessive for that.”

Annalise seemed to have calmed down a bit as she looked up although her cheeks were still slightly pink from embarrassment.

“But you...”

Annalise gesticulated towards his crotch.

Hannibal raised an eyebrow at her.

“Yes. You are an undoubtedly beautiful woman, Annalise. Now all grown up there is hardly a man, myself included, who cannot see this.”

“So... ah... I’m sorry.”, Annalise stuttered. “What are you...?”

“Nothing.”, he answered nonchalantly but knew very well that she was intrigued by the male physique, having not yet had the chance and trust to explore.

“Are you scared in this moment? Of me? Does it disgust you?”

Annalise was very quick with her answer.

“No, never. I couldn’t.”

“Are you intrigued?”

Annalise, usually though and calm, blushed for the second time this evening. Hannibal knew she was out of her depth with this topic but he wanted to see how far he could push her. Obviously his plan was to stop before it went too far.

“A bit.”, she admitted.

“There is your answer.”, he said as he stroked her cheek gently. “You are not asexual. Your psyche just needs some time to explore. What others did when they were 16 you are doing now.”

“But I... don’t feel anything.”

“That is quite alright. You don’t need to stress yourself out. It’s all your decision. If you decide to never have sex, then it shall be like this.”

Annalise looked at him.

“I... thank you.”

She curled up in his lap, Hannibal’s hand stroking her back.


	9. Urges

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I actually had this written a while ago but I didn't quite like it. However, after going over it again and changing it slightly, here it is.

Will had been with the FBI for about three weeks and came to see Dr Hannibal Lecter twice a week on the urging of Alana.

There hadn’t been a new Ripper kill, yet, but Will knew it could take months until something happened. So far he was busy with catching up on what he had missed while he had been in hospital or busy teaching.

Of course he had tried to keep himself up to date with the case even during these times but he had had to make sure that he had been subtle about it otherwise it would have had attracted attention. And it would have had been even harder to decline Jack’s attempts to get him back.

Now Will was sitting in Dr Lecter’s office, surprisingly comfortable here already. He found he enjoyed the doctor’s presence just as he had predicted after their first meeting.

The doctor was interesting, he never let his mask slip, blocked Will’s empathy completely and therefore the special agent was intrigued. He never had known anyone who he couldn’t read, who he could empathise with. Every serial killer was an open book to him but the doctor...

“How are you getting along with your case, William?”

Will shrugged his shoulders.

“Not very much going on at the moment until the Ripper strikes again. Until then you needn’t fear for my sanity.”, he joked lightly.

Hannibal didn’t comment on it. Will hadn’t expected him too. The psychiatrist was too serious for that. Not even once Will had seen him smile, really smile, not his polite psychiatrists’ smile.  
“Our time is over.”, Will mentioned with a look at his watch.

“I’m not seeing any other patients today. If there is something you want to talk about...”

“I’d rather you tell me something.”

Hannibal brushed an invisible fluff from his dress pants.

“What would you like to know, William?”

“Alana told you about me in advance. You are friends, aren’t you?”

Hannibal hesitated deliberately before he answered.

“I used to be her advisor. She was telling me all sorts of things.”

“But you knew about me. You were interested in my case.”

Will looked at his hands, smiling sadly.

“Everyone always is. It’s hard if people only want that side of you, you know? It’s...”

Will sighed.

“Frustrating?”, Hannibal offered and Will nodded.

Will somehow trusted the doctor although he knew that he was playing by his own rules. He had wanted Will in his practice and had gotten what he wanted. The doctor was a predator and Will, once again, was the prey.

He felt like he was being played by everyone in his life. Jack, Alana, now Dr Lecter whom he actually liked and felt comfortable with. 

Will was frustrated, yes, but he was also angry. Angry that at them and at himself for thinking that the Chesapeake Ripper, a serial killer, would be the only person to ever understand him. But he couldn’t tell that to anyone, could he.

“How does that make you feel, William?”

“How it makes me feel? I’m angry. I’m infuriated with everyone around me including myself.”

Will got up, pacing the office. Hannibal just watched him.

“Why are you angry with yourself?”

Will tried to push the hot burning anger in his belly down but he couldn’t. He had to tell someone or else he would explode.

“Because I feel attracted, intrigued by the Chesapeake Ripper.”, he shouted at Hannibal and stopped his pacing, breathing hard.

Hannibal didn’t say anything for quite some time. He seemed to be lost in his own thoughts.

Will’s anger dissipated as fast as it had come. Now he just felt miserable for voicing his darkest thought to his psychiatrist. He could technically not tell anyone though, could he? He couldn’t go to Jack and tell him the truth, he had sworn an oath to keep silent.

“Sit down, Will.”, Hannibal said in a soft voice, that Will identified as his psychiatrist-voice.

It took Will a few seconds to react but eventually he did as he was told, putting his head into his hands.

“Would you like to explain yourself?”

“I... I don’t know what to say.”

Will gave him a look. He had said it and there was no way back now. He could only try and make Dr Lecter understand, if there was something to understand about feeling sympathy for a killer.

“I feel like he’s the only one who would understand me. He makes me feel, it’s difficult to explain, but when I see into his head then it’s like he is, more or less, like me. Like he would understand what it’s like to be different, what it’s like not to be understood by anybody else in the world.”

“Why would you think the Ripper thinks he’s not understood by the world?”

“Because he creates art. His kills are not just random. He chooses someone ugly and... makes something beautiful out of them.”

Hannibal put his hands together in front of his body, his elbows resting on the arms of the chair.

“You think me crazy now, don’t you?”

“I would never do that, William.”

“I... I don’t want you to think that I want to be like the killer. He does terrible things. But the way he does them, what he tells me with them...”

“So you don’t want to catch the Ripper anymore?”

Will clasped his hands together, staring past Dr Lecter.

“I do. But I’m not sure what I would do if I catch him.”, he confessed.

He hated to think about it and hated to admit it to himself, but he felt the need to say it out loud. Maybe it would disappear if he heard himself say it and found out how stupid it sounded.  
Dr Lecter watched him closely, Will was aware of that. He knew, or was almost sure, that the man had his secrets himself, something that Will wanted to find out about still. 

For now, he had to deal with his unhealthy obsession with the Chesapeake Ripper.

“I know how this sounds.”, Will murmured. “But I need to catch him and get him behind bars. I think only then this all will stop.”

“Do you want it to stop, William?”

Will looked at him, catching his gaze. Did he?

\--------------------------------------------------

Will lay awake in bed after their talk. He couldn’t believe what he had confessed to Dr Lecter just that day. He had literally stormed out of the office, jumped into his car and sped home as if the devil had been chasing him.

He knew very well that he could not change it but he could pretend that he never said it. He could also make himself pretend that it wasn’t true.

He could just ditch the case, pack his stuff and case and flee to the other side of the country. Or better even, leave the continent.

But that small tugging inside his brain wouldn’t let him alone. The little voice that had gotten loud when he spoke to Dr Lecter. It was like an itch he couldn’t scratch, a hunger he couldn’t still until he found what he wanted. The Chesapeake Ripper.

Lecter had given him a valid point to think about though.

What would he do if he found the Ripper?

Kill him? Let the FBI take him? Screw him right there and then?

Will had been a mess before but it got worse since he had taken on the case. He knew he should leave it before he ended up in mental hospital again and repeated his personal nightmare. But he couldn’t help himself. He knew he couldn’t rest until he knew.

When Will finally fell asleep it was well past 2AM. His sleep was restless as usual and spiked with nightmares.

When he woke Will wouldn’t remember the dream.

_He was running through a dark forest. He wasn’t sure what he was running from._

_Suddenly he stood in a pristine home, dimly lit, classical music coming from some room further down the hallway._

_Someone appeared behind Will but he couldn’t turn to see nor move forward. He was frozen to the spot._

_Blood began to run through the hallway towards him._

_Will started to panic, tried to move or scream but he couldn’t. He could do nothing but watch. He could feel the sweat running down his face and back._

_A hand landed on his shoulder. From the corner of his eyes he could see that it was black, almost like smoke, barely there._

_The blood was flowing faster now, adding the only colour to the otherwise more or less black scene._

_The blood touched Will’s feet._

_He struggled and got free, able to move again._

_He turned and faced a creature, a black stag with massive, dangerous antlers but feathers instead of fur. It’s eyes glowed red._

Will screamed.

Waking screaming and sweating Will sat up in his bed. Winston jumped beside him, cuddling close.

Will stroked his fur, panting heavily.

\--------------------------------------------

The next Ripper kill came earlier than Jack had predicted. He was fuming on the phone when he woke Will in the early hours of the morning, only a couple of weeks later.

He insisted on Will coming to the scene now, although it was quite the drive for Will.

“The officers weren’t sure at first and only alarmed us after their forensic team has been there.”

That would explain why he was so furious.

Jack was always angry when there was a Ripper murder. He hated that guy more than anyone else and took it more and more personal the longer he kept escaping.

Will hung up and got ready, fed his dogs despite the early hour and let them outside while he made himself coffee.

Then he got into his car and made the long way up to Philadelphia. It would take him about three hours to get there. Taking the early, or late depending on which side of the night you looked, into account, it might take him less.

Will was scared but he would never admit that. He felt slightly sick to his stomach. Maybe this case would be the one that would let him discover the identity of the Ripper. And when it came to that... Well, time would tell. Or better, the moment would.

\---------------------------------------

The same night, around 11PM, Will took a deep breath and knocked at the door.

He had debated with himself for a long while, the whole two hour ride from Philadelphia, but had decided that he couldn’t go home, not now, not just yet, without having talked to someone first.

He couldn’t. His mind was going crazy. He was pretty sure that he had fantasized more than once on his drive home, forgetting he was in the car for minutes. Mercifully he hadn’t had an accident.

Jack had offered him to stay in a motel in the city but he had declined, not wanting to spend more time with the FBI and close to the crime scene as necessary.

He knew it was a bad idea to come here but it was the only place he could think of.

At first, Alana had crossed his mind and if he should go and see her but then, she had more or less politely refused whenever he had asked her out. Now he most certainly wouldn’t seek her out if he needed something. She would, most likely, only pity him anyway and worry for no reason. Besides, she didn’t know about his connection with the Chesapeake Ripper.

No, Will had his pride and if he needed to crawl in the dirt in front of someone, if someone should see the mess that was left of him, then it should be the only person he respected in his whole world.

The door opened and Dr Lecter looked at him, slightly confused. He was already in his pyjamas and robe but still managed to look as graceful as he did in a three piece suit.

Will swallowed and took a breath.

“William. It’s rather late. And you look like you could need sleep.”

“I... just came from a crime scene. In Philadelphia. I.. .” Will felt suddenly very stupid. “This was a bad idea. I’m sorry to have disturbed your sleep, Dr Lecter. I should go home now.”

Will turned but Lecter interrupted his action.

“Will.”, he said softly, using the short version for the first time since they knew each other. “Please do come in. I cannot let you drive home in your state.”

Lecter opened the door for Will so he could step through.

Will hesitated but stepped into the house eventually. He was actually relieved that he didn’t need to drive home by himself just now. He needed someone to bring him out of his thoughts.

“The Ripper?”, Lecter asked as he took Will’s jacket from him.

“No.”, Will murmured, following the psychiatrist through the house into what looked like his study.

Dr Lecter turned on the lights and closed the door.

“You must forgive but I have a guest in one of the upstairs bedrooms and would hate to wake them.”

Will suddenly felt w bit weird at this remark. A guest? Did Hannibal have a date? Did they sleep together and now the other person was upstairs, still sleeping after the exhaustion? Or did he have a girlfriend? Maybe Alana?

Will’s thoughts spun out of his control for an unfathomable reason and he tried to remind himself that the man in the same room as he was A Dr Lecter and not Hannibal to him and B this was absolutely none of his business.

The older man had assured the special investigator that they were friends with regular conversations but still as his friend, this was nothing he should be thinking about. And that small pang of jealousy should not exist. Most likely it was just an emotional aftermath of the crime scene. His brain melted together the wrong things, made the wrong connections.

Dr Lecter offered him a glass with amber liquid which Will accepted gladly before he himself took a seat.

“You came here directly from a crime scene. I assume it was a lot to take in and you needed someone to talk to.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I’m really sorry for bothering you this late but... I needed to tell someone. It was terrible.”

Will took a deep drag from his glass, staring at the floor.

“There was so much blood. He was.. painting. Or he left something very similar to a painting. A guy, he was taped to a canvas. His right arm was angled upwards as if he was reaching for something. His head looked into the same direction. His left hand was touching his hip. He was naked but for the red tunic draped across him.

“And you are positive it wasn’t the Ripper?”

“It... it looked like art but it wasn’t done carefully enough to be the Ripper’s work. The Ripper is very precise. He is clean and meticulous. This was a try to do something similar but not successful.”

“Will he do it again?”

Will nodded.

“He is trying to be a painter, trying to be perfect, but he is not. Most likely the Ripper is his idol. He is looking up at him, maybe even trying to impress him.”

“How does that make you feel?

”I... thought I felt... jealous.”

“Because he was trying to get the Ripper’s attention.”

Will didn’t dare to nod because then he would need to admit it to himself as well as to Lecter and he could not do that.

“But then I realised that the Ripper will not like it.”

Dr Lecter crossed his legs.

“Why is that Will?”

“Because the Ripper, for starters, likes to work alone in the shadows. He does like the attention but he keeps his identity in the dark. Second, he will see the sloppy work more as an offense than anything else. He will not like the way it’s done nor will he approve of the victim chosen. It was a father, a widower, working day and night in two jobs to pay the bills for his three children, all under ten years still. This killer chose randomly and orphaned three children. The man was, according to his friends and neighbours, always tired but friendly, appreciating every help he got. He had no history of raping, killing, bullying, nothing. I checked him up myself.”

Lecter stared at Will.

"I just... Dr Lecter, this all gets me too carried away. I don't know what I'm doing anymore. I... When I'm at cime scenes I can barely think straight anymore. I'm focusing on the Ripper too much, I'm letting my own feelings take over and I can't relive the crime scenes as I used to. I'm compromised."

Will smiled sarcastically, downing the liquid in his glass.

"And now you must find me even more mad than before. I wouldn't hold it against you if you would call Jack and tell him everything I just told you."

Dr Lecter sipped from his own glass before he answered.

"This would go against doctor-patient confidentiality and even if not, I would have never connsidered it."

Will stared at him.

"I do not think you mad, Will. However, I do think that you long for something. Something to match the dark that lies inside you. After all you told me, I see that you have certain... urges."

Will kept his gaze on Lecter, holding eye contact. He couldn't look away, not even if he wanted to. No, this was something no one had ever told him. This was the closest someone had ever come to look at him, the closest someone had ever come to _see him_.

The FBI profiler didn't think that Lecter understood all of his urges, as he so elegantely put it, but he was sure that there was something in him that was at least alike to Will.

I may have been the late hour, the gruesome crime scene or the alcohol but Will was intrigued. He wanted to know what Lecter's unspoken offer was. There had been a promise in his tone, something that Will could not not hear. He needed it like he needed the air to breathe at the moment.

"What urges are you referring to, Dr Lecter?'", he asked bravely before he could chicken out.

Under normal circumstances Will would never have asked so bluntly, would have shied away from the conversation but he finally had the chance to let his dark side to come out and try what it felt like to be truly himself. How could he deny it after locking it away for his whole life? How could he take it away from the promise to come out and play?

Dr Lecter gave a small, very dangerous smile.

"Pain, William. I think we might not be that different, you and I. We might have more in common than you think."

"And that would be?"

"Will, have you ever heard of BDSM?"

Dr Lecter's eyes flashed dark as did Will's.


End file.
